beautifully dangerous
by KillianJones
Summary: Based on the 'i'm in my underpants in a laundromat waiting for my clothes to get washed and your clothes are in the machine next to mine and i noticed that when you put your clothes in they were all covered in blood what the fuck' au.
1. One

She couldn't believe it. She had especially waited until 3AM, because who would be awake at this ungodly hour? But as always, fate worked against her, in the middle of the Laundromat stood an idiot dancing with his eyes closed, in his underwear. He mouthed along with the music coming from his iPhone.

Just as she was about to leave again he locked his blue eyes with hers. Embarrassedly stopping in his tracks, in the silence of the Laundromat she could clearly hear him clear his throat as he looked down, realising she had just seen him dancing in his underwear.

Right, Emma thought, raising her eyebrows and walking over to the back of the room, hoping she would be hidden away enough from him. It wasn't like she could leave now, he had seen her already, so. She placed the bag of clothes on the machine next to the one she was gonna use, walking over to the soap machine. When she returned with soap she saw the guy standing closer, his iPhone and EarPods in his hands.

"So what's your story?" He said, twirling the cords of his EarPods around his fingers and back again.

"Excuse me?" She asked, glaring at him as she walked past him. He turned around but remained on the same spot, keeping his distance.

"Well, anyone coming to a Laundromat at this time has either something to hide or is trying to avoid other people."

"Listen there is a reason I came at 3am okay? I really don't want to see other people now," Emma sighed, pouring in the soap and fabric softener in the separate compartments.

"Yeah me too," The man grunted and sat down on a washing machine, leaving three between them. "I was hoping no one saw me in my underwear. My roommate kicked me out because his girlfriend thinks I am a bad influence because I lost my job and I only got like two outfits now."

"Good for you," Emma sighed, growing slightly annoyed, she eyed at her bag of clothes, noting that spots of red were showing on the bag. Great.

"So why were you hoping to be alone?" Emma took a deep breath, leaning onto her washing machine and finally looking at him.

"Okay buddy," She started, "I'm sorry about your roommate but please," she stressed the word, it didn't sound polite, more like beg for solitude. "Stop bothering me." The man nodded once, as if finally realising that she really wanted to be left alone. Emma took her clothes out of the bag, when she saw he was far enough away, but of course he looked back one more time.

"Woah!" he exclaimed. Fucking perfect. And naturally, her first instinct was to look around for something to hit him unconscious with. So doubted the could actually lift a washing machine. "Is that blood?" he stood next to her faster than she expected. "Bloody hell that is a lot of blood."

"Get out!" She hissed, elbowing him in the stomach, it was hard; all right, so he was muscular. Yet, if she took him down now, he wouldn't see it coming. But out of the corner of her eye she saw it; security camera's. She was quite hidden away from them now, but if she started a fight, it would be on camera. So much for that plan.

"Not until you tell me," he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

"I don't have to tell you."

"I could call the cops?" He shrugged, his arms still crossed.

"Do that and the next time I'll be here, it will be your blood I'm trying to wash out of my clothes," Emma hissed, his intrusion was making her nervous, especially because there wasn't anything she could do about it. Not here at least.

"Fascinating," he said dryly, "So whose blood is this?" He wasn't scared of her, that was a first. Usually they begged her for their lives.

"None of your concern," Emma said, raising her chin. He was slightly taller than her, but she wasn't intimidated. Although the lack of space that he had given her, by locking her in this dark corner was a little unsettling.

"You just betrayed yourself, you could have said it was an animal." Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Animals don't spill that much blood." Wonderful, her urge to correct people who were wrong had just brought her in an even worse situation. She sighed, giving herself those few extra second to think quickly. "Fine, I'm a forensic anthropologist," that part was true. Sort of. "They usually only call us for skeleton remains, but this time there was another body, only just killed. I saw the blood and fainted. It was gross and embarrassing enough to fall in it, I honestly didn't want to share this embarrassing story with strangers, that's why I came in the middle of the night." And that part was not.

"Aha. That's a good lie. And honestly you would have gotten away with it if you hadn't threatened to kill me first."

"It's the truth," Emma shrugged.

"It's not. So what are you really? A hit man?" He smirked, "Or woman, in your case."

"I wouldn't be a very good one if I told you huh?"

"No, true," He laughed. Emma couldn't help herself; she liked his laugh, she liked his carelessness. She liked that even if she had just threatened to kill him, admitted to having human blood on her clothes; he didn't care, he laughed it away. But perhaps it was also kind of sad. She had seen it in others, after losing their home and job, they started not to care. They started not to care if they died or not. Emma was being pulled out of her thoughts by a machine sound, indicating that it was finished. "So, what is it?"

"Your clothes are ready," she looked on her own machine, nineteen minutes.

"Don't care. Tell me."

"You know what, you keep sitting there, I'm just going to do my laundry and leave."

"And then I'll turn you in to the cops?" He smiled empty.

"On what base?" Emma asked, looking at him once more. He looked tired, yet he also looked like he could be the kindest person you'd ever met. If only his smile hadn't been so empty now. "What if the story is actually true, have you considered that? Do you know what a fool you'd look like? To accuse a special agent of being a murderer, to my own people?"

"I really, really don't believe you," the man shrugged. Emma pursed her lips, she couldn't have him go to the cops. Surely he didn't know her name, but he could easily just say 'look at the security footage', and they'd know what she looked like, she'd have to move to another town, start all over again. Perhaps she could ask him to come home with her. She'd never killed in her own house and had preferred to keep it that way, but she couldn't have this random stranger make a mess between all that she had kept so tidy for years. She decided she would make him the offer, if he accepted, she'd do it. If he didn't, he would leave her alone and they would part ways. And then she gave him a challenging smile.

"Fine, come to my place. I'll show you my badges and my working stuff. If I still turn out to be a lunatic murderer, you can call the cops on me and you'll have my address."

"But wouldn't you kill me first?" Emma raised the right corner of her mouth into not quite a smile, knowing she had a little of a mischievous look going on right now.

"I'm afraid that that is a risk you're gonna have to take if you want to find out."

"Ah, what do I have to lose? Apart from my life, that is," he shrugged, walking away from her to his own washing machine. She felt sadness for him and while she had considered killing him for intruding, at first, she couldn't anymore. The stranger hadn't done anything wrong, he was just a little too curious for his own good, he didn't deserve to die, he deserved fixing.

He disappeared in the bathrooms, coming out wearing a dark blue shirt and jeans.

"So tell me, why has your roommate kicked you out?" She asked, moving her clothes from the washing machine to the dryer, watching him as he sat back down on the washing machine, this time one closer, but still leaving three between them. He frowned, clutching his bag of freshly washed clothes to his chest. "Ah come on, you just pried into my life, I believe I have earned the right," she gave him a charming smile - one she knew always worked.

"The company I worked for did some reforms. Since was part of the ten youngest, I had the misfortune of being fired. My housemate has this girlfriend that feels like she is entitled to everything because she works for this fancy ass company of her fathers, and she decided that because I had no means of paying for my share of the rent, I had to leave. He is crazy in love with her, he'd do anything for her, a bit like a lovesick puppy. Pretty much kicked me out before I even could take my stuff. But well here I am, homeless, jobless, no clothes. Get a degree they said, it'll help you in life," he snorted and shook his head, staring at the ground. "You know that if I hadn't had my degree, I would have been working there for three more years, which means I would have still been working there."

"I'm sorry," Emma whispered, he looked up at her, frowning at her genuine sounding words, and Emma realised that this was probably indeed the most genuine she had sounded all night.

"I suppose I could always sell my iPhone and get a motel room for a few nights, but right now I'm just clinging onto it and hoping that someone will call me back with a job offer. And when I do, I'm gonna sue them and take back all they took away from me." Emma looked away from him to hide her smile, so he wasn't completely ready to leave life behind.

Perhaps if he saw her old stuff, and believed her story, she could offer him her couch for a few nights. Emma frowned, she didn't like planning ahead, especially not this stuff. They spent the next minutes in silence, waiting for the dryer to finish.

When it did, they walked out of the Laundromat together, towards her apartment.

"All right, here we are," she said, walking out of the elevator, taking her key from her pocket to open the door, walking inside with him right behind her. "Just wait here, I'll get my badge," she said, placing her bag on the table before retreating to her bureau, taking the badge out of the drawer. She turned around to find him standing in the doorway. "Didn't I say to wait there?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to make sure you didn't have a body in here..."

"Okay..." Emma frowned, handing him the badge. He looked at it carefully. "And do you want to check the cupboard or something?"

"Maybe..."

"Go ahead," Emma shrugged, watching him carefully as he opened the doors, revealing little bottles with all kinds of liquids and working equipment. "This is my degree," she pointed at the framed degree on the wall. "Is there anything else I can show you? Pay slips, my lab coat, shall I call my co workers?" He looked at the ground, slightly embarrassed, and shook his head.

"No, I believe you," he sighed as he handed back her badge.

"Good," Emma nodded, placing the badge back into the drawer of her desk. "Listen it's late -"

"Right, I'll take my bag and -"

"No. I'm not inhuman, it's late and cold outside. You can sleep on my couch for the night, if you want."

"I just accused you of being a murderer, and now you offer me a night on your couch? For all you know, I could be a murderer. You trust me to stay here?"

"I don't. But don't take it personally, I trust no one," Emma explained, taking her bag from the table. "And you look to kind to be a murderer. Believe me, I've met a lot of murderers along my path of being an anthropologist. And you're right, I don't know you, but I'm not inhuman, I wouldn't be able to fall asleep properly if I knew I had sent you out on the streets in this cold weather."

"Okay, well, thank you," he smiled. She gave him a small nod and a smile as she took a blanket from the cupboard, handing it to him.

"Goodnight," she smiled, and left for her bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. Slowly realising what she had done. She'd invited a complete stranger inside her home, to make sure he knew she wasn't a murderer. Which she was. By showing him stuff that used to belong to her, but not anymore. And then invited him to sleep on her couch. She had dug a hole deep in lies and buried herself. Well done, you've done messed up, she told herself, feeling under a pillow, her fingers touching the blade of the small knife, feeling reassurance it was still there.

About an hour later after she had almost fallen asleep, he knocked her door.

"What?" She grunted, not bothering to be her kind self. She could kill a man just for depriving her off her sleep.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, walking inside. "But I really need to know the truth."

"Honestly," She sighed, burying her face into her pillow, wanting to fall asleep again. "Is the badge and work material not enough? Murderers don't use that kind of stuff."

"I suppose it could have been, but the thing is. Your badge has expired for three years, and some of the bottles have expired for a couple of months. Now I'm no expert, but I'm fairly certain you shouldn't be using that in your work area." Emma sighed, running her fingers over the handle of the knife under her pillow.

"Okay fine, you got me. I'm a hit woman. What are you gonna do now, call the cops?"

"No, because I know that badge is real. Or was. I'm sure that you have done a lot of experience at work. You'd kill me before I even picked up the phone. I want to know something."

"Oh dear," she muttered into her pillow, holding her knife so tightly her knuckles surely must have turned white by now.

"Just... Why? Forensics get paid really well? Why give it up to murder people?"

"I didn't just give it up. As a woman, my talents were often overlooked, even if I had always been best of my class. I worked as one for seven years, getting a first row look to all the injustice. Not just the injustice done to me, but the injustice of the system. I don't just kill everyone when they ask me to, I do research, I only go for those who deserve it. Those who got away with murder and never even felt remorse. The rapists that didn't even make it into the system. Those murderers that court let get away with it."

"Again, no expert, but I'm sure court doesn't let people get away with murder."

"Yeah, they do. They're called cops. And rich white men."

"Oh," he softly said.

Emma scoffed, "Yeah. Now listen just go to sleep, take something to eat before you leave but be sure to be gone by the time I wake up."

"You trust me to just -"

"I already told you," she interrupted him, "I don't trust you, I just hope you're smart enough to know that I can track you down and make you disappear without anyone ever wondering why you never came back."

"I could take you," his voice sounded playful, like he was smiling.

"Try me," she grinned. Emma heard him move behind her, and she knew exactly what he would do: he'd reach for her throat. Emma turned around, lying on her back, allowing him to come close enough so that she could reach for him as well. Using her legs she blocked him from moving, flipping him over so that he now laid underneath her on the bed. She sat on his stomach, her hands around his throat. Lightly; just a warning.

"Don't be so obvious, you're gonna have to try better, really," Emma shook her head in disapproval.

"Surely there must be a way to catch you off guard," he grinned, sitting up, she slipped down, onto his lap, their chests touching, his hands on her thighs.

"No, there isn't," She assured him, refusing to be intimidated by the way he held her now. Instead, she rocked her hips slightly. Pressing down harder each time, until she felt him harden underneath her. "You should know that I hold power over you, even when you try to intimidate me by holding me like that. Men are weak when it comes to sex."

"I am so turned on by you right now," he laughed, taking his hands away from her thighs. Somehow it seemed like a respectful move. He could have touched her right now, but he didn't, instead he made a joke and let go of her. Maybe it was exactly that, that made her want to continue, because she couldn't deny that feeling him harden underneath her made her long for the pleasure of sex.

"I do believe," Emma started, "that there is one way you hold power over me."

"Really?" He arched his eyebrow, "and what's that?"

"Your name. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"I know your name?" He mumbled confused, trying to think of when she had told him her name.

"The name on the card. That's my real name."

"Emma..." He spoke softly. Emma nodded once. "All right, well then, let's keep it that way."

Emma snorted, "Give me five minutes, and I'll find out."

"Really?" Emma nodded confidently. "Okay," he looked on his watch. "Start," Emma laughed, getting off his lap quickly, coming back two minutes later.

"Hello, Killian Colin Jones."

"Oh wow, middle name and all," he grinned, "how did you do that?"

"Your wallet, idiot. I was also planning on stealing your money, but all you have is like two quarter dollar."

"Unfortunately," he shrugged and got out of her bed, but Emma stopped him, laying her hands on his chest. That damn muscular chest.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Back to sleep, as your ordered?"

"And what about that little problem in your pants?"

"It's not little, thank you very much."

"No, I felt that," Emma whispered seductively. "Do you intend to jerk off on my couch?"

"I'll be careful," he winked. Emma took off her top without hesitation, never taking her eyes off his. "Oh," he muttered, finally realising where she was heading. Emma smiled devilishly, laying her hands on his chest once again to take off his shirt and push him into the bed. She kissed him without warning, feeling his surprise at first; but it didn't last long. His hand reached for her hair, his fingers woven into her blonde locks, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. His tongue explored her mouth while his other hand cupped her breast, kneading it softly, playing with her nipple between his fingers.

And like she had done before, he turned the two of them around, leaning over her.

"I believe, Emma," he kissed her once more, "that I have caught you off guard."

"Yes, I believe you did," she smiled, reaching down to undo the both of them of their underwear. Killian kissed her neck, collarbone, her breasts, taking her nipple between his teeth and playing with it with his tongue. Emma laughed softly, making him look up at her, crashing his mouth into hers.

"I didn't know dangerous people could be so beautiful," he mumbled as he entered her with ease, leaving her to moan softly as he did.

"There is no need to be gentle with me," she whispered in his ear. Killian grinned, kissing her neck softly.

"Good," he whispered and bit her skin as he made his first thrust. The sound of her moaning with each thrust was a delight, kissing her as he slowed down a little, and having her kiss him back, must have been the most gentle she had been with him.

Her nails dug into his skin, Emma knew she had marked her territory, and she knew he didn't even mind. His thrusts became firmer as she felt herself coming to her climax, he buried his face in her neck, whispering her name over and over, and with that final thrust they both came undone.

She felt her legs weaken, her toes starting to grow numb - a secret of hers, she had never told any of her sexual partners. Because with some she felt it, but with most, she hadn't. Killian rolled off of her, laying down next to her, his chest heaving just as much as hers did.

"Fuck," Emma grunted wiping her hand over her face, it was sweaty, and she felt like she could really use a shower right now. If only she trusted her legs to hold her up as she walked. But her toes still hadn't regained all of its feeling. "So um, I'm assuming you need a place to stay since your roommate kicked you out." Killian laughed softly.

"You don't know me, I could a murderer... Oh wait."

"Shut up," she rolled to her side, watching his sweaty chest rise and fall as his breathing finally went back to normal.

"I have no means to pay you for my stay right now."

"I can think of a few ways," Emma grinned. "No but I understand, you don't know me, I don't know you. Between the two of us, who would be the one with the highest potential of being an axe murderer?"

Killian laughed but grew serious suddenly. "Probably me," he said dryly, trying his best to stay serious, to give his joke more depth. Emma smirked and shook her head.

"Killian? I absolutely understand that this was probably just a onetime thing, but I need you to promise me that you never, ever tell anyone what I have done, and what I will be doing for a long while. Because no one who has ever learnt my secret has ever lived to tell anyone. When you step out of that door again, for all you know, I don't exist. This may seem like threat, but it's just a warning. I like you, something has drawn me to you, something about you made me do something I have never done before.

And frankly I am scared of myself for crossing the lines I have drawn for myself a long time ago. I understand that you may decide not to take my offer to stay here for longer, but if you don't take it, I still want you gone by the morning. If you do... Well feel free to sleep in late, because that's what I like to do. You don't have to tell me right now, but I suppose I'll see which choice you have made in the morning." Killian nodded slowly. "Good night." She turned to her side, feeling him shift behind her pressing his chest against her back, wrapping his arm around her.

"Good night," he whispered against her shoulder and kissed it softly. And there she was, falling asleep in the arms of the guy she intended to kill at first. The lioness had grown a weak spot for her prey.

She woke up to a knife slightly cutting against her throat.

"You were right not to trust me."


	2. Two

Emma's memory was a bit vague, she hadn't quite awoken yet or he whispered the words into her ear, the knife against her throat. Before she well realised what he was doing and before she could put up a proper fight, he'd hit her in the head, making everything dark again.

When she came by, she was tied to a chair in her own, damn dining room. She was wearing nothing more than the top and undies she had fallen asleep in, but he, sitting in a chair before her, had put on the clothes he had worn yesterday. Killian stared at her patiently waiting for her to regain consciousness. He had a bruise on his cheekbone that wasn't there before, and she felt a bit of pride for that; at least she'd managed to damage before he took her down.

"Hey," he gave her a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Emma stared at him with a murderous look as she felt her wrists with the tips of her fingers. Rope. But he couldn't have brought in rope with him, so he must've searched her apartment for it. If he did, then this rope was easily cut through with a knife.

Her ankles felt like they were tied up too, with the same rope, but she couldn't let him see she was studying her environment, that she was challenging her odds. Killian hadn't covered her mouth, but screaming wouldn't matter, her neighbours were either deaf, to work or didn't care. And she wouldn't be the first to scream either. Yeah, it was a pretty bad neighbourhood. But at least she fit right in.

"If only looks could kill, right?" Killian grinned, getting off his chair to kneel in front of her, between her legs, laying his hands on her thighs. He stared at her face, next to her eyes, where she felt a throbbing pain on her sleep, where he hit her.

"Take your hands off me or I'll spit in your face," she hissed. Killian smiled but obeyed.

"As the lady wishes," he bowed his head. "I'm sure you have questions..." He started and decided to answer her unasked questions for her.

Emma silently thanked... Whoever or whatever was up there that he had actually tied her to a chair, and watched him while he rambled on about some mafia guy she had once killed and his buddies weren't too happy about it, so they asked Killian to get after her.

She occasionally rolled her eyes and sighed, letting him know she couldn't possibly care less. But he ignored it.

Really, she knew that there was a possibility that one day, someone would come after her, and while she couldn't prepare herself all that well for going outside, she could prepare her house. There was at least one knife in each room, such as her bedroom, under her pillow. The bathroom, in the shower and next to the toilet. In the bureau, under the desk. The kitchen, obviously.

And her dining room; one taped underneath every chair. It had been quite the practice to teach herself how to reach for the knife when she was tied up, but she managed it, but she needed a distraction.

"How far did you look in my wallet though?" Killian took out a double folded photo and showed it to her.

"How romantic, you're already keeping photos of me in your wallet," she smiled. It was a photo of her talking to a cashier in the store, she was smiling brightly, sunglasses on top of her head to keep her hair from falling her face. She remembered the day it was taken, the cashier had told her that she looked gorgeous. And Emma definitely had a weak spot for compliments.

Killian smiled in return, again with his empty smile. "They'd given me this picture. It was kind of hard to identify you, because I haven't actually seen you laugh like that."

"I'm sorry I made your quest of finding me a little harder than you expected," Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. "So what's up with the photo?"

"It's just that, I almost believed you, they didn't tell me your back-story, where you worked before you did this. They just told me 'she killed one of ours, kill her'. So when I saw all this 'proof' of yours I almost thought I had the wrong girl. So I looked a little closer. It's quite the story you made up for yourself, and I think, with anyone else, you would have gotten away with it. Just not with me."

"Right, not with the hit man dancing in his underwear..." He seemed to be caught off guard for just a moment, something in his face betrayed that seeing him like that, hadn't been a thing he intended for her to see.

"How else was I supposed to convince you that I was harmless," he shrugged, a lie. She didn't know why she couldn't pick up his lies before. Maybe it was because she was indeed convinced that he was indeed lying. Or maybe because she was avoiding his look as much as possible. She was embarrassed by it, knowing he had bested her because she hadn't been able to detect his lies - a thing she was usually so good at.

"Are you gonna kill me yet, because I'm getting a little tired of your talks."

"As you wish. Although, I have this thing where I let them have one last wish - except freedom of course. It's a bit of a superstition I believe," Killian shrugged. Right, and his superstition was going to be his death. Marvellous. How could it be this easy? Would he pray for his victims too? Shoot a quick prayer before dumping their body in the ocean - or wherever he left them, she want her body ending up there as well. "So what's yours? Any family members I have to send something? A dying confession?"

"A glass of water would be nice?" She gave him his most unknowing look. Killian's eyebrow shot up, ever so slightly shaking his head.

"You're joking?" He looked at her like he expected more of her.

"No, I really want some water." Killian sighed and threw up his hands.

"Fine."

"Kitchen's that way," she nodded behind her. He walked to the kitchen, almost sulked. Emma looked over her shoulder and forced her arms down, he had tied her hands quite harshly - a favour she would gladly return. But she managed to take the knife.

"Where the fuck do you keep your glasses?" He yelled from the kitchen, slamming a cabin door shut.

"In the top left cabin. Or right. My left, your right," She yelled back, keeping her breath as steady as possible as she cut her hands free. Her legs were much easier as she just had to lift the chair up to release them from the chair, and shove the ropes over her feet. Emma heard the faucet open and close and walked over to the door, the chair in her hands while hiding behind the wall.

"What the hell?" He muttered, stepping out of the kitchen. And that's when she hit him in the face. With the chair. Hard. He fell to the ground unconsciously dropping the glass of water onto the floor, leaving it to shatter.

"Dude what the fuck, those were my good glasses," she grunted and carefully she stepped onto the glass free spots to drag him out of the kitchen. She placed him onto a chair, taking the liberty of removing the knife from underneath it. She learnt from his mistakes; she tied his hands behind the chair, as well as his ankles to the legs. But she also ran the cord underneath the chair, tying his hands to his feet.

And then she covered his mouth, first with duct tape, then with a piece of cloth. Duct tape was removable by constantly licking your lips, the piece of cloth was removable by moving your jaw in a certain way. Trying to remove both without being noticed would take time. Time she wasn't gonna give him.

Except that he took quite a while to wake up again, perhaps she could take a quick shower, and get into some actual clothes. Honestly, kicking ass in just panties and a tank top was hot, but not her preferred outfit to do the deed.

When she returned, wearing a peach pink, lacy dress and her hair tied back in a ponytail - so much better, who wouldn't want to kill while looking absolutely gorgeous - she found that he was slowly awakening.

"Oh thank god," she sighed, reaching for her heart in the most dramatic way, "I thought I killed you." He raised his eyebrow. "I don't like accidentally killing someone, where's the fun in that?" She explained with a teasing grin. "So buddy, it appears roles are reversed now, and to be honest, I like it better on this side," Emma smiled and sat down in the couch. "But I'm sure you did too. A word of advice... That you might not be able to put to use: don't try to kill a killer in her own house." Emma turned the TV on and zapped to Nickelodeon.

"Perfect," she chirped, seeing it was a marathon or SpongeBob. "While you were out, I took a shower, and thought of what to do with you. I get my best ideas in the shower. I wondered if getting screwed to death would be a possibility, it is in The Sims, did you know that?" Killian seemed absolutely unamused by this piece of useless information. "Because I really did enjoy last night, I do wonder why you did that. Perhaps I should have asked you before I taped your mouth. Anyway, so then I thought, maybe I should punish him first, for trying to kill me in my, own, fucking, house," she hissed.

"So I thought, I make him watch the most annoying program I know, and let him watch that." He seemed to be smiling. "Yes love, this can be a fun show, but have you tried watching it for eight hours straight. I wouldn't get through that even if I was drunk," she took his face in her hand, letting him face the light.

"That is quite the gaping wound I got you there, I think that needs stitches." Killian's eyes widened. "I can fix that if you want." He nodded hesitantly. "All right, don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," she winked at him but he didn't really seem to enjoy her joke. She took some materials from her cupboard, leaning her hands on the shelf, taking a deep breath. What was she doing? Was she really going to fix him up before killing him? Was she really going to kill him? Not in her house, she didn't like it. But then she would have to call someone to help her, and she really, really didn't like admitting that she needed help taking someone down. She could give up, was this life she was living really living?

Gods she could use a drink, she noted as she returned back to him and dragged his chair closer to the window, taking another chair to place her materials on. She sat down on his lap, one leg on each side.

Emma took a cotton swab and disinfected the wound first, feeling his eyes follow her every movement. "All right, my neighbour, adorable old woman, but deaf as shit. My downstairs neighbour has gone to work since 8AM this morning and won't be coming home until late this evening. I don't even know who my upstairs neighbour is, I don't even know if I have one. So screaming is no use. You got that?" Killian nodded. Emma took off the cloth and slowly ripped off the tape from his mouth. To her surprise he did indeed remain silent indeed. She took the needle and held it through the flame of her lighter.

"So what do you intend on doing with me?" He spoke softly, watching her carefully as she prepared the needle with steady hands.

"I don't know," Emma whispered, guiding his face away from hers with the back of her hand, "Hold still." He bit his lips with every stitch she made, but remained silent and kept sitting still. Luckily, it only needed six stitches. She had fixed herself up quite a lot of times, the internet could make everybody a damn doctor, but fixing someone else appeared to be a lot easier and it hurt less. "Why did you do it?" Emma asked, she found her voice husky, unwillingly.

"Try to kill you?"

"No, I suppose if you are hit man too, that you were just doing your job. But do you sleep with all the people you kill?" She leaned over to the chair next to her and took the compress out of the package.

"No, do you?" He asked, not taking away his eyes from her face, but she couldn't look at him, instead she pretended to be too busy with taking care of his wound.

"No," Emma said firmly, taping the compress in place to cover up the stitches.

"Then why did you?"

"Because I didn't intend on killing you," Emma answered.

"And now you do?"

"Probably."

"Was I that bad?" He grinned, Emma frowned, he was tied up on her chair, she hit him in the face with a chair, she was this close to actually killing him, (she still sat on his lap), and still he joked.

"You don't think I'll do it," Emma realised out loud. "You don't think I could kill you."

"I know you are lethal, love. Trust me, if you were able to take out a mafia boss, you can take out me. But you just fixed me up, with the most gentle touch," he looked her straight in the eyes. "You want to kill me, but you also don't. Yet you know that if you let me go, I will come back for you. As I know that if you let me go, and you manage to take me out once again, you will not let me go like you did the first time. You're a worthy opponent," he smiled.

"Are you seducing me?"

"Why? Is it working?" Killian teased. "I am not seducing you. But you must understand that I too would rather live," he shrugged - for as far as the ropes allowed him - apologetically. Emma nodded and finally got off his lap, there was something about him that had made him irresistible, even now, after trying to kill her. Maybe it was the memory of last night. Maybe it was how he treated her, he didn't lie about finding her a worthy opponent, he spoke the truth when he said he knew she could kill him. He didn't doubt her strength. He didn't look down on her.

She couldn't just let him go. She couldn't keep him tied up forever. There was no way she could make an agreement with him. She'd never trust him.

"Fuck it all," Emma sighed, raising her hands to her head. "What am I to do with you?"

"I have a suggestion..."

"Shut up," She mumbled as she started to walk around the dining room, fiddling with her dress. "Okay, so who are you really? Did you really get kicked out of your house?"

"My name is really Killian Jones and no, there was never a roommate," he answered truthfully.

"And you didn't get fired?"

"No. In fact, I have to get to work soon. They might start to wonder..." She frowned, there was something in his voice, just a small thing.

"Gods, that is the absolute worst lie. Like a salesman when he's trying to sell a house quickly and he says there are other buyers so hurry up," Emma laughed, leaning on the table with both hands, "You're lying, Killian Jones," she raised her eyebrows, urging him to admit his lie.

"I'm not, call them if you like."

"You know what, I will do that."

"My business card is in my wallet." Emma nodded, taking his wallet she had taken out of his pocket and placed on the table next to his phone, taking out the card that looked official, she had to admit, and called the number. Emma saw him slowly getting more and more nervous, and smirked.

"Hi," she said, oddly concerned with how high and fake her voice had sounded just then, as the secretary introduced herself. "I was wondering if Killian had come to work today."

"Who is this?"

"His girlfriend," Emma lied smoothly.

"Okay..." She trailed off. "I think you and your boyfriend need to have a talk."

"What, why?"

The secretary sounded like she was smiling, sounding like the exact kind of girl who would rat out someone else. "Killian has been fired two months ago."

"Oh..." Emma whispered, "well, thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day!" The girl chirped and hung up. Bitch.

"God damn it man, if you don't start telling the truth soon I'm gonna hit you in the face with a chair again."

"Anything to get you on my lap again."

"You're asking for it," Emma crossed her arms. "Okay, Lady McBitch -" Killian grinned as if he knew exactly who she was talking about. "- told me you were fired only two months ago? So you haven't been doing this for a while?"

"You shouldn't believe Sarah in all she says. I didn't get fired, I quit. Combining two jobs is so hard, is it not?" Emma took a chair and sat down before him, taking the knife from under the chair to play with. Somehow feeling like she needed the distraction. "Ah that's how you got out," Killian nodded once, slightly impressed.

"There's one under every chair. I took the one from your chair out, of course."

"I didn't expect anything else," he answered. "It's clever though."

"I like to be prepared," Emma shrugged, playing with the knife between her fingers. "Although it's not always that the men I sleep with want to kill me."

"Well, it's nothing personal." Emma smirked and shook her head.

"So how long have you been doing this?"

"Two years, I believe?" He pursed his lips as if to think about it and then nodded. "Two years."

"Then you must have built quite the reputation if the mafia hired you," Emma noted, hitting his knee with the flat of the blade repeatedly, she wasn't trying to hurt him, she was just thinking. Thinking of what to do with this asshole, thinking of how to do it, or maybe release him.

"I must have. I usually get the job done though."

"Want to know what I think was the problem?" Emma grinned, sitting back in her chair, staring him in the eyes.

"Enlighten me," he smiled.

"Firstly, my own house, come on!" She sighed. "I know this place like the back of my hand, I know all the places I hid knifes, I know all the things I could easily lift up to smash your head in. I know how many steps it takes to get from the sink to the door, allowing me to know exactly when to swing the chair so that it hits you with full power."

Killian kept smiling at her as she talked, he looked at her with admiration, and it was somewhat amusing. "Secondly, you didn't cover my mouth, what was up with that? If I hadn't known this neighbourhood was so bad, I would have screamed my lungs out," Emma tossed the knife on the table, watching it land next to the first knife. "Thirdly, I suppose I get superstition, but never take your eyes away from your victim, unless you are 100% certain they can't get away."

"I was certain you wouldn't get away."

"No, you're wrong to be certain about that, because again, this is my own house," Emma laughed and crossed her legs, resting her hands on her lap. She realised how much she sat like a lady right now, if only it wasn't for that man sitting across her, bruised and battered... and tied up.

"I wish I had a notebook to write all of this down," Killian laughed, "I am learning so much."

"Yes, shame you won't be able to put it to use then, huh?" She tilted her head and gave him a dead smile.

"We could work together..."

"You say that like I would release you! As if I would ever trust you!" Emma scoffed. "What did you expect?" She stood up, placing her hands on her hips, "Oh my! The man who just tried to kill me offered to work together, I must take this great offer at once!" He tried to hide his smile, tried to hide that he thought she was absolutely amazing just there. "You are so dumb," she laughed and wiped her hands over her face, her face back to calm, yet pained, when her hands fell back to her sides.

"You asked what to do with me. Letting me go isn't an option. Not only for you, but for me too. When I leave here, they will first kill me and then send another to do the job. Working together to take all of them out might be an option, but I understand you would never trust me. And if I'm honest, when the job is done, I'm not sure I would trust you to not come back for me," Emma smiled: he was right, she would come back for him.

"And you really don't like the plan of me actually killing you, do you?"

Killian smiled, "Not really no." Emma stared at him, watching him smile at her. It wasn't a begging smile, it wasn't an empty smile, it was a genuine smile.

"Okay we've both had unfair starts. We're both strong and smart. Why don't we settle this fair?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned.

"I untie you," she started slowly, trailing off, knowing he must think of her as a mad girl. And she was, but was living like this really worth it? If he didn't succeed, they would just send another guy after her. She'd be on the run her whole life. She wouldn't be able to be at ease. Emma took a deep breath, she made her choice. She wouldn't let him get her easily; but she'd let him win.

"I untie you, and we both get a fair shot at trying to kill each other." Killian frowned but nodded once. Emma stepped behind the chair and cut the rope loose, throwing the knife on the table quickly; it knocked both other knives off the edge of the table.

She should have guessed that even if she did want to fight, he wouldn't have played fair. He went after her the second he was loose. He grabbed her by her waist, turning her around and pressing her against the wall.

And then he crashed his lips against hers. That, she couldn't have guessed. But it didn't stop her from kissing him back.

Emma wrapped her arms around his waist as he lifted her up, his fingers digging into her thighs. She laid her arms around his neck, trailing her tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss as his tongue met hers.

While his left hand still firmly hand onto her thigh, his right let go, trusting she would be able to keep herself up with those strong legs she had tackled him with last night.  
His hand disappeared under her skirt, making teasing soft strokes against her panties, strokes that sent shivers straight up her spine.

Her hand reached for his hair, grabbing at it and against her lips she could feel he had that stupid grin playing on his lips. Killian shoved her panties aside, feeling her wetness as he pushed one finger inside her, a second one following immediately after. He had no mercy on her. And frankly, she didn't want it either.

While his fingers worked magic, she really, really craved a different part of his to be inside her. She reached down trying to open the button of his jeans with one hand, getting slightly frustrated when she was too distracted by his hand in underneath her skirt to completely focus on unbuttoning his jeans.

As he realised what she was doing, he pulled back his hand, holding back onto her thigh again, allowing her to use both hands to unzip his pants, and pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to reveal his hardened length.

Emma held back onto his neck, lifting herself up. He watched her carefully as he entered her, seeing the pleasure on her face. Emma couldn't help but cast him a flirty smile as she once again started kissing him. Moaning into his mouth each time he thrust.

It was hard to focus on keeping her legs fixed around his waist when every muscle of her body wanted to give up. When he kissed her so passionately, she wondered where it all came from.

His grip on her thighs became even firmer, surely leaving marks behind when they were done.

"Fuck," Emma whispered, holding on tighter to his neck, knowing her legs wouldn't hold out much longer.

Killian kissed her neck frantically, like this time it was his time to leave marks on his territory, as he continued to fuck her against the wall.

"I can't -"

"It's okay, come for me, love," he whispered against her neck. "I got you," he promised, giving her those few quick and steady thrusts she needed to reach her climax.  
Emma held her lips against his shoulder, trying to keep herself from crying out in pleasure, yet muffled moans were still clearly audible.

And this time too, her legs started to feel heavy and her toes numb, but like he promised; he had her and she didn't fall.

"Good girl," he breathed, feeling his body tense a little as he pushed down just that bit deeper inside.

His breathing was unsteady, she felt his warm breath against her bare shoulder, her chest rise and fall against hers. But hers wasn't the steadiest either.

Killian stood like that for a moment before pulling out of her, and looking at her. His lips were slightly parted and she wondered if it would be okay to kiss him once more, or if that was exclusively to the part where they actually had sex.

But he simply smiled at her and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face before letting her sit on the ground. He fixed his jeans and sat down next to her.

"Well you didn't play fair," she laughed, slightly out of breath.

"I think that was very fair," he grinned. "So do you usually lose sense in your legs after sex?" Emma hesitated, unsure if she should answer, but Killian used the silence to continue. "I noticed it last night as well, when you didn't move for a short moment and kept your legs exactly like I left them."

"It doesn't always happen..." Emma admitted slowly.

"So what are the conditions for your legs to give out on you?"

"The sex has to be really good," she groaned, not sure why she was telling him that. Emma leaned her head against the wall, staring at the ceiling, feeling him shift next to her.

"Imagine what I can do when I would make love to you," he whispered into her ear, for the second time sending shivers down her spine.

"Yeah about that," she suddenly said, ignoring his seduction. "Weren't you about to kill me before you fucked my brains out?" Killian shifted back to his spot, growing serious all of a sudden.

"I could see it in your eyes that you weren't going to fight," he said somewhat sadly.

"If you don't do it, someone else will," Emma shrugged like that should explain her actions. "If you found me, someone else will too. I can't escape this."

"So you just give up?" He accused her, he almost sounded like he cared just then, and it scared her.

"I don't... Just give up," she scowled. "I am literally telling you 'here I am, take my life', that's not a decision I take lightly, you can take my word on that. I knew that one day I would make a mistake. Taking you in my bed was that mistake."

"Ouch," he reached for his heart, pretended to be hurt.

"Not... Not like that. You just, you looked so harmless. You looked kind and I felt bad for you. I honestly don't know what's gotten into me. I have never met anyone get close to me, ever. Not even my foster parents. And then you come along..." She trailed off.

"See there is this thing called love at first sight."

"I don't fall in love!" Emma protested, "and definitely not with someone I had only just met. Seen him dancing in his underwear. What's up with that though? Do you catch a lot of preys with that method?"

"All of them," Killian grinned.

"How did you even know I was gonna be at the Laundromat?"

"I didn't," he shrugged, "I suppose that was just dumb luck from my side. If I'm absolutely honest with you, I was washing out blood out of my clothes as well. But I didn't notice my bag was dripping, so I got blood on my jeans too, hence the pant-less-ness. But playing the idiot did usually get me close to my victims. Although I wasn't too sure if it would work on you, but since you had already seen me dance like that, I guess I just decided to pretend it was part of the act."

"So the dancing idiot was the real you?" Emma laughed. Killian scratched behind his ear and nodded shyly.

"Wow, I might have to kill you just for knowing that about me," he laughed. Emma hid a smile, realising how dumb this entire situation was.

"Look at us, two murderers just sitting on the ground talking to each other after just having wild sex with damn SpongeBob playing in the background. How messed up can two people be?"

"You know, I kind of like SpongeBob," he smirked, "but since I had this tape thing going on on my mouth, I couldn't really tell you." Emma shook her head in amusement.

"What are we to do?" She sighed.

"I don't know."

* * *

**AN; **I was absolutely stunned by the response this fic got. I literally received two death threats if I didn't continue this fic - or at least wrote a second chapter. Now, I must admit, that's not the reason I wrote the second chapter. The reason was that I could easily imagine what would happen next. But I didn't write the second chapter for a while because I'm really bad with multichapter fics. But I re-read what I had written, and realised that I too, would probably send angry messages to the author of a fic who dares to end with a cliffhanger like that.**  
**So here it is, the second chapter, I really hope you like it, because personally I am quite content with it.  
Maybe, there is room for another chapter, to see what they do next, but like I said; bad with multichapters. So for now, I will keep this fic set on 'complete', and if I decide to not continue, you have my full permission to imagine your own ending ;).

And lastly; thank you for the overwhelming response you guys gave me, it really did inspire me to write a second chapter for you guys, and it made me feel good about my writing again. So thank you, thank you, _**thank you**_!


	3. Three

She stared at her feet, her legs stretched out in front of her, Killian's feet reaching a little farther than hers. Her breathing had eased, and the feeling to her legs slowly returned. Her toes were still numb though. It was interesting how he'd managed to do that both times now.

And it was interesting that she let him do that two times now, but perhaps hoped for another time.

"Emma?" Killian spoke softly.

"Yes?" She looked up at him briefly before looking back at her feet, wiggling her toes slowly after finally regaining all sense in them.

"I know when I said it earlier, you laughed in my face, but I mean it this time. We can work together, kill them all."

"I don't -"

"Emma, look at me," And she did, meeting his blue eyes. "You must believe me when I say I don't want to kill you. You don't have to trust me, not now. But you must believe me." He spoke sincere words, his voice kind, deep, and warm. She hated the feeling she gave him, she hated feeling like she could trust him. When her mind kept telling her that the first time she somewhat trusted him, he held her own knife against her throat at her weakest moment, her heart told her to trust him. Emma bit her lower lip, getting up on shaky legs. From the corner of her eye she could see him smirk at the sight.

"Shut up," Emma muttered, leaving to the bathroom, cleaning up her face, holding the cold washcloth against her neck as she stared at her reflection. She looked tired, but satisfied in a strange way, with blushing cheeks. And a purple bruise on her temple. She sighed and returned to the living room, seeing Killian come out of the kitchen, a bowl in his hand while stuffing a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

"Dude, are you seriously eating my cereal?" Emma raised her eyebrow, crossing her arms. She knew she looked far from intimidating right now, with the smirk playing on her lips. He was an amusing sight.

"I was hungry," Killian shrugged, flashing her a teasing smile. "You haven't fed me. You're a bad host."

"Fuck off," she muttered and left to the kitchen to take a bowl for herself. The microwave showed 4PM. Wonderful. Ah well, it's never a bad time to have cereal. Killian sat down in the couch, watching the damn SpongeBob marathon.

"You can't be serious?" But he only shrugged and continued to eat his cereal while watching TV. She stood in front of the TV like an angry mother, ready to tell him to clean his room or something.

"Well, the only thing better than watching SpongeBob is watching a gorgeous lady."

"I'm slightly insulted, I can name at least a hundred things better than this cartoon," she scoffed and turned off the TV. "I have decided to take your offer, tell me about them."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"Okay, let's see. When they want to see me, they text me a location, usually a very open space, strangely. Last time it was near a park. They pick me up in a black car, blindfold me and after driving for a while I am in some sort of dark room. I have never seen the actual building or what exactly it is. I'm always in an office room, but I'm honestly not sure. I've met up with them three times, but they always text a different location. Sometimes, I feel like they drive in a circle to make sure I can't figure out how they are driving." Emma nodded, watching him carefully as he spoke. He'd finished his cereal and placed the bowl on the coffee table. He was sitting with his legs spread, his elbows leaning on his legs, and hands folded. He felt comfortable, and it was a strange thing to see. "I never texted them, I could text them once only; when the job was done."

"How many men?"

"Three in the car, two on the backseat - I'm always in the middle - and a driver. They're rather quick in blindfolding me, so I haven't been able to see if they're always the same three though. In the room they take off my blindfold, and there are five men, four of his lackeys and the big man himself. And when I say big man, I mean big man. He's heavy, in a big costume, smoking a cigar. And he's Italian," Killian shook his head and snorted, "They look so much like the stereotype mafia's, it's like a badly directed movie."

"But they are to be taken serious?"

"I'm afraid so, I feel like they only wear the black and do the whole act to make fun of the stereotype. Maybe it's their humour or something, although they don't share mine. I kind of asked them jokingly 'did I end up in a movie?' and got a gun pointed at me." Emma grinned, placing her now empty bowl on the table.

"Is it possible the people in the car are in the room too?"

"Maybe? Or they are guarding the door. I really don't know, sorry."

"All right, so either eight or five?"

"There might be other people in the building," Killian noted, angering Emma a great deal.

"Right. Either eight, five, or a hundred?"

Killian sighed, "Can we hope for five?"

"I need to call someone," Emma said, getting up.

"Why?"

"Because we can't get to killing if we don't know where we have to do the killing," Emma answered. "We need a tracking device."

"That won't be possible, they always check me."

"Not for you, for the car."

"How -"

"Don't worry about that," Emma smiled. "Okay, just go home, wash up, take a nap, come back tomorrow, we need to be fully rested for this." Killian nodded and got up, walking over to the door.

"Wait, Killian?" He turned around to face her. "You know how to handle a gun?"

"Yes," Killian answered slightly attacked. "Do you?" He raised his eyebrow, hoping to insult her just as much, but she smiled.

"I don't," Emma answered, "Or not that well. Which is why I asked you."

"Oh... Then what is your weapon of preference?" Emma took a dagger from the table and tossed it in her hands. "Really?" Killian raised his eyebrow, unsure if that was a wise choice to bring to a gunfight. Emma smiled devilishly and threw the dagger at him, it passed merely an inch next to his ear and drove deep into the wall behind him.

"I know how to handle my knives," Emma said.

"I can see that," Killian answered, the startled look still clearly on his face, he reached for his ear, but she hadn't nicked him, thankfully.

"So, you have one at home?"

"Yes."

"Then bring your gun. See you tomorrow, Killian," she smiled.

"See you tomorrow, Emma," he replied, looking at her once more before leaving the apartment. Emma sighed, what had she gotten herself into? How did it all happen? One minute he stood there dancing in his underwear, the next he was in her bed, the one after that he tried to kill her, and she him - did she ever really try? She took her phone and dialled the number.

"Hello beautiful," her sister's voice greeted her happily. "What do you need?"

"Why would you think I need something?" Emma asked, playing with her dress.

"Because you don't like calling, if you just wanted to talk, you'd visit me. You only call when you need me for something."

"All right," Emma sighed, "Ruubs, I need your help."

"Is it legal?" Emma could practically hear her sister grinning.

"Not really?" She lingered the word, hoping to sound as innocent as possible. "No, it's not legal." It remained silent, "Ruby please, I need a hot girl to do this thing for me."

"You got me at illegal. Double got me at hot girl," Ruby laughed.

"How in the world did you ever end up working as a police officer?"

"Who else is going to keep my baby sister out of trouble? So what's the reason you can't do it? You're hot too."

"I'm the one they're after."

"All right," Ruby sounded worried. "What do you want me to do?"

"Can you come by tomorrow? It won't take long."

"I have an afternoon shift, starting at 2. I'll come before that. See you tomorrow, darling."

"See you tomorrow," Emma smiled and hung up.

* * *

Killian knocked the door around noon, Ruby grinned and got up.

"No!" Emma hissed, knowing exactly what her plan was. Ruby had already dressed for work. Ruby was definitely the teasing kind, but this was downright mean.

"Oh come on sis, that is a chance you can't just..."

"Fine," Emma sighed and opened the door.

"Put your bag on the floor, and keep your hands where I can see them!" Ruby yelled, gun held high, as Killian walked in the apartment. He placed the bag he was carrying on the floor and raised his hands to his head, giving Emma a glare. She shrugged and closed the door again. "Wow, you're right sis, I'd let him fuck me against a wall too," Ruby laughed, putting her gun back in the holster. Killian's glare slowly became a confused look as he carefully lowered his hands.

"I am very confused right now," he muttered. Emma smiled, picking up his bag to look inside. A gun, safely tucked away between a book and some clothes. Like he was just going on a sleepover. With guns.

"This is my sister, or adopted sister, if you want to be precise, Ruby."

"Nice to meet you," Ruby smiled as she sat down.

"Ruby is going to help us."

"Hence the police costume?" Killian offered, sitting down across Ruby.

"No, she is actually a police officer," Emma laughed, going to the kitchen and coming back with three cans of coke, handing one to Killian and Ruby each.

"I am still confused," Killian said, accepting the coke, his fingers brushed against hers, but she didn't seem to make much of it and instead sat down next to him.

"My sister is all I have left," Ruby explained, "I will protect her at all costs. She's good, rarely makes mistakes, but when she does, I am there to make sure no one finds out. Or when she needs my help tracking down mafia."

"So you started working at the police to keep her safe?" Killian raised his eyebrow, seeing Emma smile at her coke can, tracing her finger around the top as she shook her head slightly.

"Honestly, does this guy want our entire history?"

"Well, I was hoping to find out a little more, since you sincerely work for the police and you could have me arrested or something..."

"He's got a point," Emma spoke up softly. "We can't expect him to trust us in this if we don't share the things that are supposed to make him feel better about this whole thing. My sister worked for the police long before she found out."

"I felt so betrayed and you want to know why? Because I thought we shared everything."

"You expected her to share with you that she was a murderer?" Killian wondered.

"Yes!" Ruby said without hesitation. "Everything," she stressed the word. "We were in the system together. She was a few years younger, and if you really want to know, she was scared," Emma felt so exposed as her sister continued talking angrily. She knew Ruby knew she was right about having to share things, but that didn't necessarily meant she had to agree, and it resulted in exposure.

"So I made the promise to find out about our real parents. Hence the police, I could find out anything I wanted through the police system, no questions asked. We got adopted together, and brought back into the system together. Then we ran away together, when I was old enough to take care of ourselves. So yes, we were so close and we shared everything."

"So how did you find out?" Killian asked.

"I was getting to that -"

"You don't really like me, do you?"

"Just because you're handsome doesn't give you the right to fuck my sister and then try to kill her," Ruby hissed.

"Ruby," Emma warned, gently shutting her up. "She had a case, she came home angry because the system had let a man, guilty of rape and murder, walk free due to a procedure fault. He'd even threatened to do the same thing to her. I tracked him down, not knowing Ruby was still investigating, even though they told her not to. I had just killed him, frankly, I still sat on top of him with my knife in his chest, when I felt the gun against my head," Emma spoke, clearly remembering her sister's words, 'let go of the knife and turn around slowly'.

She'd felt like crying back then, hearing her sister's voice. But for the wrong reason, because her sister had found out her secret - and they didn't keep secrets from each other. "So I turned around." Tears in her eyes, hands full of blood, a bloody shirt. An angry sister in front of her. "Ruby didn't lower her gun for a while. To be honest, I was sure she was going to shoot me."

"I could never," Ruby whispered, drinking from her can of coke.

"She asked one question then, 'did you leave any fingerprints or DNA?' I couldn't talk, so I just shook my head and then she told me to go home. Once at home I told her everything. For real, this time."

"Okay..." Killian said, he'd grown silent at her story. Then again, Emma did start talking calmer throughout the story, the whole room felt calm and safe.

"Anything else you want to know?" Ruby asked, not accusing this time.

"Kind of, but I suppose it's a little irrelevant, if not invading."

"I honestly just told you the story of my sister finding out, how much worse can it get?" Emma laughed. "What do you want to know?"

"If you found your parents?" Killian asked, immediately shutting her up. "You don't have to answer," he added quickly. Ruby sighed at her can.

"Gods, I wish this was beer. I did found hers, but they didn't want anything to do with her. Frankly, I'm glad, they are drug addicts, but I can't really do anything about it. I found mine too, or their graves. Died in a car crash, a few years after giving me up. Maybe I was lucky in that way, I could have been in that car too," Ruby shrugged it off. But Emma remembered the tears when she told came home and told her.

Killian looked at Emma, but she shook her head. "All right," he spoke up at last. "So what's the plan?"

"You text them, go to the place with Ruby. Ruby will hang out in the area, when the car stops she will ask them for papers because she got an anonymous tip or something, she'll be very flirty, distraction is kind of her thing," Ruby smiled proudly. "Place this little tracking device somewhere they wouldn't notice immediately. I give you a half an hour to do your thing. Pretend I'm dead, make up a story. When I'm there I'll take out the guys outside."

"Those could be a lot of guys."

"I can handle it," Emma smiled.

"She can handle it," Ruby said at almost the same time.

"Why aren't you coming along? You could help with the shooting. Or even arrest some."

"Sure, I could do that, and then your asses are in jail too. You think they'll keep quiet? If they say you two are murderers, they will investigate you two, and I can't come anywhere near the case because she's family. I am also to report any shootings I do, and I can't say I just 'lost' a few bullets. Listen, I know Emma can handle it, once she's inside, she'll kill off the people, give you your gun as soon as she's able to, and you start killing. Don't leave anyone alive," Ruby urged. "It's mafia, frankly, they are known, but no one will question their deaths. They'll be scribed off as payback, and because of the shitty system no one will care after the bodies are gone." Suddenly Ruby grew quiet, staring between Emma and Killian, at the wall behind them.

"What?" Emma asked, turning around in her chair.

"Is that a knife in the wall?" Ruby frowned, Emma grinned and got up to pull it out.

"Your dear sister decided to show me exactly how lethal she is with her knives," Killian replied, eyebrows raised while typing out his text. Just a simple 'job done'. Not even a minute later he received one back. 'Meet in city park, nice day for a walk.' Ruby got off her chair.

"Wait ten minutes -"

"I can't let them wait ten minutes," Killian interrupted Ruby.

"Be safe, Emma," she turned towards Killian and gave him a glare, "And you will wait ten minutes," she urged and left the apartment without saying another word.

"What a delight," Killian sighed, Emma held back a grin and pulled on her boots. "Are you always in black when you do the thing?"

"No, if I intend on screwing them first, I will wear a dress," she winked and stuffed a dagger in her boot. "Black is easier to wash out blood, and I'm more aware of hairs I could potentially drop," Emma smiled and tied her hair back into a ponytail.

"I didn't know death could be so gorgeous and look so innocent."

"Well death can be pretty dangerous too." Emma was aware her resting bitch-face wasn't all that close to a bitch-face. That she could look innocent even while dressed in all black. But to have it pointed out, unless it being to her advantage, wasn't something she liked to hear.

"I know that," he pointed at the wound on his head. He'd taken off the bandage overnight, and it seemed to heal pretty quickly, the stitches wouldn't let loose in a fight. If she wasn't a murderer, a doctor would be the way to go. Killian looked on his watch. "Okay, see you soon," he smiled, leaving her alone in her apartment.

* * *

Emma stopped the car about 60 meters before the car's signal had stopped, deciding that she'd go on foot for the rest of it, so that she could find ways out and most importantly so that they wouldn't see her coming.

Reaching her destination, she saw the building was in fact an abandoned office building, in a street of badly kept houses that actually seemed to be inhabited. Great! There were actually worse places than her street.

Walking in was easy, the front door was unlocked, but there were two men sitting at a desk, playing a game of poker.

"Miss, you can't come here," they looked up as she walked in, holding their hands over their waist, ready to take their guns, but Emma played the innocent card.

"Sorry about that, I seem to be horribly lost, I can't read a map if my life depended on it, I don't think anyone else was home, and I saw lights through the window, so I hoped someone here could help me," she explained. The men smiled and got up.

"It's all right, where do you need to be?"

"I have the address written down," she mumbled, reaching for her pockets with her left hand - because she knew she'd need her right hand just after this. Taking down people with knives was easy when you knew each danger, if you needed two kills, and are right handed, then use your left hand for the first, he'll be unprepared, but the second one will have a slight advantage of time, no matter how quick you are. So when you need speed, use your good hand last. These are things she picked up along the way, scars to prove using your right hand first isn't always the best idea. And thus she reached with her left, as if to take a note from it. But well, that's not what she kept there.

She pulled the knife from her pockets and slashed the closest one's throat, the other started reaching for his gun, but moving quickly, she took her second blade and drove it through his hand, pinning it down on his lower abdomen. "Where's the big boss?" She asked, lifting her first blade to his throat, holding the pointy end against his chin, ready to drive it straight through his skin upon any movement.

"Second floor, left hall, last door," he answered quickly.

"Where is he really?" Emma smiled, twisting her left hand, feeling the bones in his hand crack a little.

"Fuck!" He yelled in pain, "please stop, he's on the third floor, there is only one office, that's the one. Stop, please." She did like it when they begged.

"What's on the second floor?" She asked softly, twisting her left hand again.

"Coffee room."

"And?" Every time he didn't answer or took too long, she moved the knife slightly and he realised this soon, resulting in his answers coming quicker and quicker.

"Four men."

"How many are with the big boss?"

"Four men," he repeated.

"Don't." Twist. "Lie." Twist. "To." Twist. "Me."

"Seven," the guy breathed. "Big boss, five men, and some guy they brought in to kill the Princess."

"You're assassinating the Queen?" Emma asked.

"No," he almost sounded like he was laughing. But it sounded more like misery and desperation. "Some girl who killed one of our own, was supposed to be the next boss. Big Boss said 'it's like she takes anything she wants, like a fucking princess and I want this Princess dead' it's a joke, a nickname that stuck."

"Ah," Emma said, "I'm flattered, but I'm not a Princess, I am in fact a Queen," she smiled before finishing him off, leaving her with a little time to see what she had done. They stood in a puddle of blood, the first guy and the second's blood collided as he fell down. Honestly, she'd done him a favour. That amount of damage, not easily fixable, and a hospital was no options for these guys.

Emma reached the stairs before hesitating. Taking down four men would be possible, but risky. Especially if they had guns. She couldn't play the innocent card anymore because she had their companions' blood all over them. Leaving them there and getting Killian first would be a better option, except that as soon as the shots were fired they'd come up too. So then they'd have to fight ten. Slowly she walked upstairs, silent as possible walking towards the closed door from where the voices came.

"The Princess is finally dead," Emma heard one laugh. "About time."

"Shame of such a hot woman though, I would have loved to have her on top of me," another replied.

"Nah, she wouldn't fuck you, you'd have to force her. Bet she screams loudly -" Emma forced herself to stop listening as she felt anger rise in her chest.

They sounded like they were drunk, probably having victory drinks, assholes. But drunk men were stupid, absolute idiots. She cleaned her blades on her pants, she wouldn't let them die by anything other than her own blades. She steadily held her knives in both hands, hoping to not have to use the left. But still, it was always... Handy, to keep it at ready in case something went wrong at the right. Emma knocked the door, but hid behind the wall.

"Did someone just fucking knock?" One laughed.

"Probably that new kid, I honestly don't get why the boss hired him."

"Come in kid!"

Emma smiled at the ceiling, there was a new kid upstairs, fucking hallelujah, an easy kill. Her attention was drawn back to the door as it opened slowly, mumbling something about "useless".

Emma raised her finger to her lips, knife in her fist, telling him to be quiet, his confusion was enough for her to reach out and slice his throat. He fell into her arms and she laid him down soundlessly.

"Hey Tom? What's up?" A drunken voice, the one who said he'd like her on top of him. He stumbled outside, locking eyes with her.

"Holy shit," he muttered softly, reaching out for her, but she took a step aside and he fell down. She walked over him, her booth against his throat.

"How's this for being on top of you?" She hissed and pushed down. He wheezed something she couldn't understand. "What was that?" She asked, kneeling down, her knee into his chest.

"Fuck you bitch," he wheezed, gasping for air.

"The feeling's mutual," Emma hissed, driving her knife through his chest. Any resistance that had been there left his body quickly. She had been so caught up in killing off this guy she barely felt the gun against her head until it brushed against her hair. The last time this exact scene happened, the person with the gun had let her walk away.

But Emma knew that it was too much to hope for this time.

"Let go of the knife and turn around slowly." Knife. Not knives. He hadn't seen her left hand. Carefully she nodded, leaving the knife sticking in his chest and did as told. Apart from the turning around slowly, she turned around quickly as possible, cutting deeply into the gun-holding hand in the motion then stabbing him in the throat before he could yell out in pain.

Emma took the knife from the dead guy's chest, again one blade in each hand, waiting for the fourth one to come, but he never did. The guy downstairs said four didn't he? How many voices did she hear? Three? She needed to be ready, walking inside and having a bullet shot through her head wasn't an option. She knocked the door again, but there was no response.

Emma looked at the three bodies around her, picking up the lightest looking and holding him up like he would be peeking through the door. A shot went through his head, blood splattering onto her face, surprise made Emma drop the guy.

"Holy shit man, shit I'm sorry, shit, fuck," Finally, the last one sounded like he was coming closer, she picked Killian's gun from underneath her shirt and held it ready. She really didn't like guns, because they gave away the element of surprise, alerted neighbours, and how scary it felt in her hands. But this was a crappy neighbourhood, in her street, she was certain at least someone would call the police, in this one she wasn't even sure if anyone would care at all. She raised the gun to his head as he fell down to his knees and pulled the trigger.

"Oh fuck," a young voice came from the stairs upon hearing the sound. Emma hid in the coffee room, it smelled more of alcohol than coffee though. "Oh my god, the bodies."

"Pull yourself together!" A second voice said. They were on the second floor now.

"But -"

"No damn buts! You want to prove yourself this is it. Someone is here, find them and bring their whimpering bodies to the boss."

"How are you sure there are two?"

"They killed six of our men, that can't be just one, go check the restrooms, I'll do the coffee room." Emma braced herself, the guy too must know she was still there and he must have sent the new kid to the bathrooms because otherwise he'd run in the way.

But the guy coming at her was expecting two guys, and it was just her. Emma wasn't entirely sure if that worked in her advantage or not. But she had to make up her mind quickly.

She hid behind the closed door, knowing that that would require her left hand to do the stabbing.

"I know you're here," his voice said, closer than expected, he too was hiding behind the door, but on the other side. Keep talking, she thought standing on her toes to find out at which height his voice came from. "I have a gun." Higher, he was taller than her. Much taller. He suddenly burst in the room, leaving her unable to stab him in his throat. But he hadn't seen her at first, allowing her to stab him in the shoulder, she meant to stab in his neck, but he was in the process of turning around.

"Son of a -" he started, but stopped at seeing her. "Oh shit, it's the fucking princess. That little rat was lying." He grinned. "Oh I'm gonna enjoy taking your corpse to him." The man reached for her throat, his gun still in his hand. Due to her being smaller it was not much of an effort to duck and escape his grasp. Emma ran until the end of the room, turned to face him and held the gun up, finding he had his gun already pointed at her. He could have shot her, but he didn't.

Upstairs suddenly sounded three gunshots, followed by a door smashing open. While her thoughts tried to direct her to Killian, she didn't let it distract her. But neither did the big guy across the room, his gun was still steadily pointing as her. But so was hers.

The guy in front of her studied her, waiting for the right moment to shoot her, or maybe he was hoping that the guy running down the stairs was the big boss, so he could see him shoot her down, knowing Killian was a liar. But whatever the case, he didn't move, not until a bullet shot through his head. But it wasn't her bullet, Killian stood with his gun pointed at her, lowering it immediately at the sight of her.

"Killian," she sighed, catching the relief in her voice.

"Wow, you look hot covered in blood," he grinned, running towards her. "Sorry I didn't wait for your timely rescue, I was..." He didn't finish his sentence, but it was obvious what he wanted to say. I was worried for you.

"I'm fine," she nodded, handing him his gun. "I'm glad you stepped in, take the damn gun, I miss my knives. There's another guy in the bathrooms."

"Three more upstairs, while I was on the stairs I heard the Big Boss say 'don't bother, the men downstairs will get him.'"

"There aren't any more left downstairs, except the guy in the restrooms. So let's give them a surprise."

"How many were there?"

"Six," Emma answered, slowly walking towards the door.

"Gods you turn me on," he whispered, Emma smirked, but didn't let him see.

"Let me get the guy in the restrooms," she offered, looking in the empty hallway. Empty aside from the bodies of course.

"He's so young," Killian said softly, almost regretfully.

"Killian..." She started, but he shook his head.

"I know. Go ahead, I'll guard the stairs." Emma slowly entered the restrooms.

"Please don't -" a young male voice sounded from a bathroom stall.

"You have a gun?" She asked.

"Yes."

"So do I," Emma lied smoothly. From the last bathroom stall a sound came, he'd jumped onto the floor and laid his gun on the ground, sliding it under the door, far away.

"I'm coming out, don't shoot."

"Okay," Emma promised, holding a tighter grip on her knives. A young man came out of the stall, or maybe a boy would be a better description. He couldn't have been older than sixteen.

"You're the Princess," he exclaimed. "And you don't have a gun!"

"My knives can be just as dangerous," she warned him.

"Don't I know that!" He laughed, his voice full of admiration. "You're the one who killed Eduardo. With your knives, while he had a gun."

"Emma?" Killian came inside, "What's taking so long?" He saw the hesitation on her face. "Look there's a lock on the door, take his gun lock him up and decide later. We have to move now." The boy kicked the gun their way. Yes, she'd have a long talk with this kid after all of this was over. She picked up the gun and left the restrooms, watching Killian as he locked the door and slipped the key in his pocket. "Ready?"

"Yes," Emma nodded, taking the first step on the stairs before being stopped by him, his fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Don't get shot," He gave her a small smile.

"You neither," Emma smiled in return and walked up the stairs. The top floor was just a bunch of old cubicles, some still complete with a nineties computer. Some windows were cracked and some were taped off with garbage bags. It was overall a cold room. She felt Killian's presence behind her, reaching over her shoulder to point at a door in the back. He raised his gun.

"No, we need an element of surprise," Emma whispered.

"Or we shoot them all through the door," Killian whispered back, closing one eye to perfect his aim.

"No, that's madness," Emma argued, but he fired anyway, the bullet went through the door. If anyone had been standing there he'd be hit around the waist. And there must have been because loud cursing pursued. He fired another, around the same height, then another. He fired four bullets before multiple shots were fired back at them. Emma dragged Killian down, hiding them both in a cubicle under the desk.

"Son of a bitch, if you don't die now, I swear I will kill you myself," she hissed as the shots were still fired in the room. She took his shirt in her hands an inspected him.

"Were you hurt?"

"No," Killian replied softly, "You were," He took her upper arm in his hand and showed it to her. The bullet had nicked her and the adrenaline rushing through her body had made it so that she hadn't even felt it.

"I'm fine," Emma answered, pulling her arm back as the shootings stopped and what was left of the door sounded like it was being opened.

"Odds are they're not dead yet, find them. Maim them, but don't kill them," a deep, accented voice sounded. Emma looked at Killian who nodded. The Big Boss. Emma held her breath and counted the steps, then held up two fingers. Killian nodded once more, getting on his knees, to crawl out of the booth and fired two shots, followed by a body falling down.

"In the back!" A voice yelled.

"Well then go get them idiot," the big boss replied, he still stood by the door, while the second person sounded like he was closer. Emma took a third knife from her boot and placed it in her back pocket, holding the two other knives in her hand.

"I'm not in the back!" Killian suddenly replied, he sounded further indeed. A shot was fired, but it didn't seem to have any purpose or maybe it did; leading them away from her. Emma got up, it didn't take long to find the man standing in the middle of the room.

He made a shot in her direction, she felt the bullet hit her, but threw her knife anyway, it hit him in his jaw, while she had aimed for his eye. But Killian's shot followed soon after, knocking him over as the bullet went through his head. Emma couldn't help but run over towards Killian, never taking her eyes off the big man at the door, but he didn't move. Instead he shrugged.

"Well then, it seems like you got me," The Big Boss said. "I must say, I'm impressed, Killian. You lied to all of us, saying you got the job done. Yet, here she stands, our Princess. By your side..." Killian didn't speak, he just held his gun steadily pointed at him, using both hands. "The Princess who fights with blades. Interesting choice," he slowly reached for his gun, and she wondered why Killian didn't just fire, instead of listening to him ramble. "Because you see, if I shot you now, Princess, your knife wouldn't even be halfway before you fell down onto the ground. Dead." Emma could see Killian's jaw clench, his knuckles growing white.

"You keep holding that gun at me," The Big Boss smirked at Killian, "You have one shot at this. Fire yours, and I'll fire mine," he made his words sound like a promise as he pointed the gun at Emma, she felt Killian tense beside him as he did. Emma raised her knife. "Ah yes sure, a knife, I'm scared," Emma took her second knife from her back pocket. "Two knives!" He exclaimed and laughed. She didn't like being laughed at, not at all. She tightened her grip on the handles. He held up his gun, pointing it straight at her. "Maybe I'm glad he couldn't do it, Killian, because now I can do it myself!" He hissed and pulled the trigger. Before she even well realised what happened, Killian had stepped in front of her, taking the bullet.

But then it hit her fast and the threw both knives at the Big Boss, once hitting him in his throat, and once in his heart. She knew her aim on the left was off, and her blade had only barely hit his throat, but it was enough. Emma fell to her knees, looking to see where the bullet had hit Killian. Since he was much taller than her, a bullet that was supposed to hit her in her heart, hit him in his lower ribs.

"Come on, I can fix you," she whispered.

"It's okay," he smiled, reaching out for her cheek.

"No, you will not die by anyone's hands but mine," she hissed.

"That's comforting, since you just said you want to fix me up. Not sure if I want to come," he winked, his lips grew red from the blood dripping over them. Internal bleeding.

"Shut up," Emma said, "can you walk?"

"Not far."

"Just make it to the car, okay?" He nodded slowly, leaning onto her good shoulder, his arm wrapped around her neck.

"You're bleeding," he noticed, looking at his fingers, red from the blood on her shoulder.

"So are you," she dragged him down the stairs, as she wanted to go to the first floor, he stopped walking.

"Philip," he muttered.

"Who?"

"The kid in the restrooms." Emma placed him on the stairs, kicking the door in, deciding there was no time to look for the key in his pockets and unlock the door. Philip sat at the end of the restrooms looking startled as she entered the room.

"Well kid if you want to live you gotta help me," he nodded hastily, getting on his feet, running after her and helping Killian off the stairs.

"Are you taking him to a hospital?" Philip asked.

"Are you mad?" She laughed a little panicky, but shook her head. "I'm taking him home, and you too. I need to talk to you."

"Yes, Emma," He obeyed. She'd never admit it out loud, but she was happy she let him live. Her own shoulder started to hurt badly and the help was more than welcome. Philip helped her place him in the front seat of her car, taking a spot in the backseat himself. On the way home she called Ruby.

"Emma? Are you okay?" She answered the phone hastily.

"I am. Killian..." Took a bullet for me. "... He got shot, I'm taking him home to fix him up."

"Emma they are on the way to some abandoned office building. Multiple shots were reported. That was you, right? Is there anything at all that could..."

"Not to me, my knives are buried in the asshole's corpse, but I wore my gloves. Killian's blood maybe, or even my hair. But I couldn't - I have to fix him up first, I didn't have the time..." she hit her steering wheel when she had to stop in front of a red light, feeling his hand take hers carefully, squeezing it once. She looked at him, seeing his face grow paler and paler.

"What's your blood type?"

"O neg." He managed to bring out, taking his hand away to put more pressure on his wound, leaving a bloodstain on her hand.

"Ruby," Emma started, but her sister knew what she was about to say. She wasn't a match. But Ruby was.

"I'll sign off and get there as soon as I can, all right?"

"Thank you," Emma said and continued driving as the light went green.

Philip and Emma dragged him into the elevator, strange to say, but it wasn't the first time there was blood in the elevator. Ruby was already waiting at her front door, helping Killian inside, clearing the table to lay him down. Ruby followed her inside the bureau to take some equipment.

"What happened?"

Emma paused for a moment to look at her sister, "he took a bullet that was meant for me," she answered. Ruby smiled, taking the equipment in her arms, watching Emma as she continued to stack more things in her arms. "Well then I owe him as much as to save his life."

"I don't know why he did it. He never even hesitated," Emma frowned.

"You got shot too," Ruby noted, taking a closer look at her sister's shoulder.

"I know, but Killian first, I'll manage," Emma stated, leaving no room for argument, stepping back towards the dining room, Ruby following closely.

"Emma," Killian whispered, looking even paler. "It's okay if you don't -"

"Shut up, you'll be fine," she promised.

"Yeah, you'll be fucking her against the wall back in no time," Ruby smiled, preparing his arm for blood transfusion. He would have blushed if he could.

"If I don't... Thank you for trying." He muttered. Philip turned out to be an excellent assistant, he was obedient and fast. After fixing Killian up, Emma asked Philip to tell her his story, while trying to get the bullet out of her shoulder. Ruby had eventually stepped in, deciding seeing Emma take out a bullet from a gaping wound was the grossest thing she'd ever seen her sister do. And she ate mud pies when she was younger.

Apparently, the only reason Philip had been so excited to see Eduardo's murderer, was because Eduardo had killed off his entire family for some reason even Philip didn't quite understand. Philip was then brought into the little group and raised to be one of them. He absolutely despised it, but tried his best because he didn't want to die.

"I guess I can understand that," Emma said, finishing the last stitch on her shoulder and taping it off with a compress. "Listen, I'm not about to kill off a kid. If anyone ever asks you, who am I?"

"I don't know," Philip answered.

"Smart kid," Emma laughed and got up, "You got anywhere to go?"

"The closest relatives I have are miles away from here..."

"Do you think you can call them?"

"I suppose so?"

"I could drive him home," Ruby said, "He can call his relatives from there."

"What do I tell them?" Philip asked.

"I don't know kid, anything but the truth. Or maybe the truth, but leave any of it out. Say you hid in the restrooms, that the men who took you captive were all shot and you ran away before you even saw who killed them."

"I think," Ruby started, "That they will have to take him to the police too, I'm sure that what happened today will be on the news. They might make the link."

"I can do that," Philip nodded.

"You better," Ruby threatened, "You've seen what she can do, she'll find you -"

"Ruby, it's okay, he won't tell," Emma assured her sister.

"I won't. She brought justice to my parents and my baby brother, then she freed me. I am very grateful of what Emma did."

"All right, let's get you home," Ruby took his shoulder and guided him outside.

"Goodbye, Emma."

"Goodbye, Philip. And stay in school!" She yelled after them before the door closed. Emma took a chair and sat down at the end of the table. She brushed through Killian's soft hair with his fingers. "God's you'd better get through this," she whispered, crossing her arms on the table and laying her head down. Emma had barely fallen asleep when Ruby came back inside, she kneeled down next to the chair and smiled at her sister.

"Go take a bath, it'll do your muscles good."

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this," Emma took Ruby's hand in hers.

"I told you, I'd do anything for you. I'm glad you are safe again. What are we to do about this one?" She nodded at Killian.

"I don't know..."

"Do you like him?"

"Ruby..."Emma hissed, but Ruby merely shrugged - something Emma wouldn't be able to do for a long time.

"It's just a question, it wouldn't be a disaster if you did. And it might be a sign that you still have some feelings left, and you aren't completely dead inside," Emma hit Ruby's shoulder. "Well, I'd do the same thing, but you can't hit cripple people," a comment that resulted in a receiving a glare. "But hey, this guy's got my blood inside him, if I were a blood mage, I'd be controlling him right now. I pretty much own him now."

"You play too many videogames."

"We can't all have the fascinating life you have," Ruby winked. "Go take a bath, I'll watch over him," she promised, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

* * *

"Ruby," Killian mumbled.

"Hey, look who is back," Ruby set her can of coke aside and got up. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I shouldn't be alive."

"Well neither would my sister if it wasn't for you," Ruby smiled.

"Where is she?"

"Taking a bath," Ruby helped him off the table carefully. "Slow steps okay, don't want these stitches to open up on you, I don't have enough blood left to save you then," she grinned.

"Thank you," Killian said, "you didn't know me, and yet -"

"I didn't do it for you. For some strange reason, my sister likes you. And you must like her too, if you take a bullet for her." Killian smiled shyly, nodding once as he slowly walked over to the bathroom door. He knocked and waited patiently for her to answer.

"Ruby?" Emma asked, running her fingers through the water.

"No, Killian," he spoke through the closed door. She hesitated, well it wasn't like he hadn't seen her naked before so.

"Come in," she replied, watching the door open and Killian stepping in slowly. He smiled at her, somewhat weakly, never taking his eyes off hers. Like he was trying to be polite and pretended not to notice her nakedness. "I don't think you should be walking around already."

"Ruby said it was okay as long as I moved slowly," he said, but decided to sit down on the toilet anyway. "I wanted to thank you, for saving my life."

"And you, for saving mine," Emma answered, staring at the soap bubbles.

"We're you hurt?" He pointed at the bandages on her left shoulder.

"Got shot in my shoulder, another nicked me , but I'm right handed, so I'll be fine, aside from that, a few bruises and sore muscles," she brushed it off like it was nothing, pulling her knees to her chest, leaning her chin onto her knees. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit dizzy, but not as close to death as earlier," he smiled.

"Good," Emma smiled in return. "You may stay here until you're better, or you could go home now, I'm sure Ruby would drive you if I asked. You should find someone to take out the stitches though, better not go to a hospital, because they will ask where you got the stitches in the first place and -"

"Can't I come to you?"

"No," Emma said firmly, not looking at him, but she knew he was looking at her, she could feel it.

"I said we'd work together, get our mutual threat out of the way and then we'd part ways."

"You can't actually mean that?"

"Why? Because you saved my life? Well I saved yours buddy. You tried to kill me, I tried to kill you. I think we're even on everything now, so yes, we can part ways."

"Emma," he whispered, something in his voice made her look up, turn her head to look at him. Killian gave her a pained look, his eyes sad.

"Don't..." She could feel her heart beat in her throat, clearing her throat didn't help. She felt it pounding in her chest, so loud she was afraid he'd hear it. Killian closed his eyes briefly and nodded once before opening them again.

"I'll ask Ruby if she can take me away now, and I'll find someone for the stitches," he got up and walked outside, outing a silent 'thank you' before closing the door behind him. She stared at the water, moving in bigger waves as she allowed her breathing to grow unsteadier and heavier.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" Ruby yelled from the front door, Emma heard it fall shut behind her. She was happy Ruby hadn't waited for a reply, she didn't trust her voice right now.

She'd barely known the guy for four days, how did he manage to do this to her? Why did he make her feel like this? It wasn't fair. It was absolutely and completely unfair.

Emma was sitting in the couch when her sister once more entered her apartment. "I feel like I'm a fucking taxi driver today," she complained and plopped down in the couch next to her. "Oh my god, Emma, marry this guy and then kill him so you get his house and I'll come live with you again. He lives in a fucking villa I swear." Emma smiled weakly. "He asked me to write down his address and give it to you," she held up the paper slip and laid it on the coffee table. "You guys had cereal together? You two are really serious, when are you moving in together?"

"He stole my cereal," Emma muttered softly.

"You don't want to talk about him?"

"No," she whispered.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to cry," Emma sighed, falling into her sister's arms as her tears started to flow. And she cried until she had none left.

* * *

**AN:** This chapter got much longer than expected. In fact, it was 13k words long. But I decided that it would be a bit ridiculous to have a third chapter that was 3k words longer than both the first and second chapter together. And I cut it. So yes, there is in fact a fourth chapter coming! But then I am really ending it. A proper end this time; no cliffhangers, I promise ;).

But thank you again for this massive response again to this fic. It really makes me happy, and makes me feel good about my writing again. I hope you like this one as much as the previous.


	4. Four

_One week later._

She stared at the slip of paper, Ruby's messy handwriting covered the tiny slip. His address, she'd given it to her, not for the marry him, then kill him and get his house reason. But because Killian had asked her to.

It was a little like leaving a phone number and then being unsure to call him or not. But he must have known she'd never call. And perhaps this wasn't an invite for a visit, perhaps this was more of a 'I have your address, now you have mine so we're even' kind of thing.

However, something in his expression the day she'd sent him away, made it clear that this was in fact an invite to come by one day. Emma sighed, she'd dressed herself up completely, a nice fancy dress and boots, and then she sat back down, staring at his address.

She didn't know what kept her back, it wasn't like she had something to lose.

Maybe it was vulnerability. Going there would mean entering his territory, a place she didn't know. Going there would be a clear sign she liked him. Going there brought the possibility of the start of something new and unknown. And it scared her to death. But at the same time, she was curious.

It was that curiosity that made her get up again and leave her apartment, driving towards the address.

Ruby had been right, his house was in fact a big modern house, definitely leaning close to a villa. There were even spots on the floor. She couldn't help but imagining the inside, or the garden, he probably had a pool.

Emma got out of her car, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt. Perhaps she needed to go back home, it was so late, maybe he had company. She knew her mind was making up reasons not to go any further, but she let her feet walk her to the front door and rang the doorbell. She felt horrible being as exposed as she was now, but seeing Killian open the door, giving her the warmest smile she had ever received, she felt all fear leave her. It was strange, the feeling he gave her, and she couldn't describe it any other than safety. He made her feel safe.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hi," she whispered. "Am I -"

"No, not at all. I was just about to watch a movie," he assured her, opening the door a little wider, "come in." She smiled and entered his house. Emma looked around, the main colours were black and white, mostly white, and yet it seemed so warm and homey. On her right side, a large salon, with a big TV.

In front of her the kitchen, with a damn kitchen island. She always wanted one, but instead she was stuck with her crappy apartment. She'd told herself it was better to stay low key, not to show any of her riches made by killing people. But Killian obviously didn't care about that.

"Okay this is gonna sound really weird, but so you have a pool?" Killian laughed but nodded.

"Yeah, it's on that side," he pointed towards the right corner of the house, but she couldn't see it. On that side of the house were doors, probably bedrooms and a bathroom.

"You don't care about what people think?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" He asked, walking over to the salon, and sat down in the couch. Emma took off her jacket and sat down carefully, but felt herself slip down a little anyway. This damn couch was more comfortable than her bed.

"How you got the money and all?"

"It was my parents' house first. And far as my neighbours are concerned I work a nine to five office job, in an electronics company that just struck a really good deal," he shrugged. "You live in the apartment because you're scared of what people will think?" He laughed.

"You think I would live in that shithole for my pleasure? Really, I would kill for a place like this... Hm," she realised, "Poor choice of words." But Killian laughed even harder.  
"As long as you don't kill me..." He teased.

"You know what Ruby suggested? Marry you, kill you and keep the house."

"I'm sure she would, so am I supposed to tie you to a chair now? I honestly don't want to kill here, the cleaning lady just came yesterday." Now it was Emma's turn to laugh.

"No, I don't want to kill you."

"Good. Well, I don't want to be rude, but then what are you doing here?" She stared at him, she could feel her heart pound in her chest. Because I missed you, but don't make me say it out loud, she thought. Emma took a shaky breath, ready to say it, but he shut her up by nodding.

"All right," he smiled. How could he so easily read her? No one ever could, did she let him? Was that part of this whole opening up thing? "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"I'd love to," she answered, happy that he didn't push it. "Do you have a fireplace?"

"No," he grinned, "but there is this channel that broadcasts this footage of a burning fire twenty four hours a day. He laughed, and you can turn on the heating, grab a blanket and snuggle up, just as romantic and cosy," he teased.

"You must get all the ladies," Emma teased back.

"I haven't tried this method yet, may I?" He winked.

"No!"

"Right, you're not the romantic kind of type, you only get off on me trying to kill you. I can do that too, if you like." Emma felt her cheeks colour red.

"Will you shut up?!" She yelled. Killian grinned, tracing his tongue over his lips.

"I missed you," he sighed happily. It sounded like a joke, like he was teasing. But his lingering smile betrayed there was some truth in his words. She studied his face, she noticed he still had the stitches above his eyebrow. She'd taken out hers earlier today, glad the pulling finally stopped. "Everything all right?"

"Yes, I just saw that you still have your stitches..."

"Internet said about a week for stitches in the chest."

"Yes, but face sooner."

"I know," Killian shrugged, "A friend of mine will take them out, I just didn't feel like going twice."

"I could take them out if you want," Emma whispered.

"Sure, that would save me the trip, she lives pretty far," He got up from the couch and gestured for her to follow him. Killian opened the door of the bathroom, opening a cabinet next to the mirror, above the sink. "Emma?"

"Yes," Emma muttered, only vaguely aware of his voice as she looked around in the room. A walk in shower in one corner and a large corner bathtub in the other. She turned to face him, seeing that stupid grin on his face. "Stop it."

"I didn't say anything," Killian gestured to the cabin, "take what you need." Emma noted all sorts of things in the cabin, the regular things for headaches, stomach aches. But other things like the heavier painkillers, stuff to treat wounds, stuff you would find in a hospital really, not in a household cabinet.

"Do you even know how to make stitches?" Emma took out the stuff for stitches and removal of them.

"No, but I have it anyway in case it's really bad." Killian walked with her to the dining room and sat down on the middle chair, closest to the light. Emma took his face between her fingers, examining his face.

"So your friend..." Emma started while she carefully took out the stitches. "Is she..."

"She's just a friend," he assured. Emma smiled but shook her head.

"Not what I meant -"

"Oh, ehm," Killian's cheeks coloured once he realised what she did mean. "No she's not, she's a doctor. We met a few years ago, she patched me up after a job gone terribly wrong and didn't ask questions. I'm sure she knows, but when need painkillers or stitches she doesn't ask."

"Lucky you, I have to get through a lot of shit to get my painkillers. But sometimes Ruby gets them from work after a shooting or something, so she passes the leftovers to me. I'm not saying I'm immune to pain, but I have definitely learnt to be more picky about in which situations I need a painkiller." Emma took out the last one. "There."

"Thanks," Killian smiled.

"Want me to do your chest too?"

"Sure..."

"Take off your shirt."

"You first," Killian winked but took off his shirt without another complaint, Emma sat down before him, on her knees, her fingers lightly brushing over his skin. "How does it look?"

"You're doing surprisingly well without your kidneys."

"What?"

"Yeah," Emma answered, reaching onto the table to take her tools. "I got a good price for them on the black market."

"You're hilarious," Killian scoffed. Emma looked up at him with a teasing smile.

"Sit still," she ordered and took out the stitches.

"Strange, how such delicate hands could kill in a heartbeat and yet tend with great care," Killian spoke softly, his chest barely moving. Emma hesitated, unsure of what to reply. To reassure him once again that she wouldn't hurt him would be too much. She knew that much.

"I'm done," Emma whispered and got back on her feet once she finished up his chest. "Have you had a lot of pain?"

"Not at all, you fixed me up very well," he smiled and put on his shirt again. Emma found the trashcan in his kitchen - in a cabin below the sink. Emma was kind of happy he let her just figure it out on her own; like he had nothing to hide from her. And this way she could slowly examine her environment, it was also a little comforting.

Emma followed him back to the couch, sitting down on the other side, keeping her distance. She sat modest at first, her legs crossed, feet dangling, hyper aware of his presence, of her being in his house, on his couch. Emma unzipped her boots, knowing Killian eyed her curiously as she pulled her legs onto the couch and sat back. She avoided his look, trying too hard to focus on the movie she was certain she'd seen before.

It felt strange that she came here on a whim - or something close to it; she was standing in front of his door and even then felt like she should have left. But he had invited her in and barely asked questions. Like it was the most normal thing she would just make a visit in the late evening. Emma sat up once again when he paused the movie midway.

"Popcorn?" She nodded slowly. "I've never seen you so shy, I honestly didn't think you had a shy side," he teased.

"Killian," she started slowly, following him to the kitchen.

"Am I pushing it?"

"I don't know if there is anything to push," Emma answered.

"There is," Killian decided for her. "But I know you are scared. You said that you don't trust people easily. But I will work for your trust, because I want to earn it."

"You took a bullet for me!" Emma blurted out, it hadn't exactly been a response to what he said, it was not knowing the answer that had kept her up for nights, kept her busy, made her wonder. Not knowing why, was the exact reason she came here.

"And I'd do it again."

"Why?" She frowned, genuinely not understanding why. And it bothered her so much.

"See, there is this thing called love at first sight..." He trailed off. She smiled and shook her head, remembering the first time he used that line on her.

"So you would just give up everything you have here, for a stranger who tried to kill you?"

"Emma look around," Killian sighed, pushing the buttons on the microwave. "Shit, don't you realise I'm trying to compensate? I have nothing. I am alone. My parents are both dead, my brother is dead. I have no friends anymore because I decided that would be too dangerous. I have nothing to give up. So yes, I would give my life for a stranger who tried to kill me. A stranger that takes in a homeless kid out of pity. A stranger that has a loving sister. A stranger who gave a kid back his freedom. She is kind, she is lovely, she is beautiful and she cares. For that stranger. I would give up my life, because at least hers has value." Emma had looked away from him while he spoke, looked at the white tiles of the kitchen floor. Bit her lips helplessly in a poor effort to hold back the tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. She expected him to reach out for her, wipe away her tears, because that's what happens in the movies, but he didn't, instead he gave her space.

"I don't know how it happened," he started after a moment of silence, the popcorn popping in the microwave, the scent filling the space. "I know when you walked in the Laundromat, you watched me, you were disgusted, while I'm sure anyone else would have laughed. And then I recognised you, but you didn't look as happy like you did in the picture they gave me. You told me you didn't care about me, about anyone, but when I 'believed' your story you let me sleep on your couch anyway.

I suppose that those were the first signs I knew you weren't the vicious woman they told me you were. And then you hit me in the face with a chair, I honestly don't know how to explain, I promise you I'm not into that kind of stuff, but I liked how you fought back. And then you cared by fixing me up. And then you stopped caring about yourself, you would have let me kill you," he took a deep breath, pausing his story to take out the popcorn bag and poured the steaming hot popcorn in a bowl.

"The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I wouldn't be able to finish it off. That first night, I laid awake all night, fucking hell I even watched you sleep, you were peaceful, you didn't have that scowl on your face like you had all the time before. Like whatever troubled you during the day left you alone at night. You even curled up against me, used my arm as a pillow."

Emma had a hard time admitting it to herself, but the night she slept next to him, was the first time she slept well in a long time. She didn't want to admit it was him, but now that he was telling her how he let her sleep against him, she was only growing more certain it was because of him.

"But then I felt the knife under your pillow and I was reminded why I was there. I tied you up because I wasn't sure of what to do. In all honesty, I don't think I ever genuinely intended to kill you."

"I did," Emma finally spoke, having heard enough. She felt like her heart was about to jump straight out of her chest. She'd heard what she wanted, she knew his reasons, she understood. "I was gonna kill you if you didn't believe my story," Emma shrugged.

"I think I saved my own ass by believing your story for a moment."

"No, you saved your own ass by fucking me like you did." Killian grinned.

"You're too kind," he winked, taking the popcorn bowl and guiding her back to the couch, but she stopped midway. "Something wrong?"

"I... I want to..." She raised her hand to her head, grunting in frustration. He placed the bowl down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, holding her hand and pulling her closer.

"Take your time."

"Yes, that's what I want," she squeezed his hand. "I want this, but I need time."

"I understand."

"Killian, love doesn't come easy for me, I can't say I fell in love right from the start, I'm not even sure if that's what I'm feeling right now. What I feel now..." she hesitated, "it feels right." He nodded. "Trust doesn't come easy either. Frankly, I believe that if I stay the night - I mean if you want me to - fuck this I'm already fucking up."

"You're not," Killian stroked her hair behind her ear, "I would like it, if you stayed the night, but you don't have to."

"Okay," Emma whispered, "but if I do, I'm probably going to be awake all night."

"Don't trust me, but believe me. I will not harm you. Never again. Honestly love, do you think I like being hit in the face with a chair?"

"And your floor," Emma offered.

"Yes!" He exclaimed dramatically, "my clean floor." Emma laid her hands on his shoulders. Her thumb brushing his neck. His hands found their way to her waist, gently drawing her closer, and then he tugged harder, pulling her onto the couch, right in his arms. "Let's finish this movie," he grinned, releasing her slightly so she could move away, but she didn't. She sat next to him, her legs over his, his arm around her waist, loosely enough for her to reach out for the bowl of popcorn and place it between them.  
There was something safe about him laying his hand on her leg, stroking it absentmindedly as he watched the movie. Something safe about him adjusting his position so she could lay her head onto his shoulder.

Something safe about the way she looked up at him when the movie ended and found he was already looking at her with a small smile. Emma watched him curiously as he took her hand and not quite kissed, almost brushed his lips against her fingertips, never taking his eyes off hers. She could see it in his eyes. She could see what he wanted - and honestly, she wanted it too, but on her terms this time.

"Killian," she started, "I don't want this to be fucking and going home. Or staying here afterwards and being afraid because I'm not sure if I can trust you."

"Do you think you could trust me?" He wondered silently, holding her hand against his cheek, she brushed her thumb against his stubbled cheek.

"I want to," Emma admitted, but felt her body tense at her confession. "But I'm scared."

"I understand," he said and got up, lifting her legs from his and walked away, opening one of the doors, leaving it ajar. Emma noticed it was a study, she saw a shelves filled with books, roof-high shelves with books. Curiosity drew her closer, pushing the door open a little further.

"Coming to see if I have any bodies here?" Killian snorted, he stood with his back towards her, reaching out for something on his desk.

"No," she smiled, remembering that that was the reason he had followed Emma into her bureau the first time. "I just saw these books, there are so many..."

"Most of them were my father's," he explained. "Well, no bodies here, just ghosts," Killian handed her a framed photo, he was much younger, but she could clearly recognise him, standing with - what she thought was his family - in front of a small yacht, named the Jolly Roger.

"That's my mom, dad and my brother," he said, standing next to her. "They had just bought this boat and I got to name it. I joked that name because I used to like Peter Pan a lot," he smiled shyly. "So naturally they wanted to go out sailing, but I was studying for my driver's license at the time and had an exam the day after we would return, I didn't want to fail, so I stayed home," Killian sat down on his bureau chair, gesturing for her to sit on his desk. And she did.

"My mom felt pretty bad about it, but they had already planned the whole trip, so I assured them it would be all right. And so they left. During the exam two police officers came walking in and told me that their boat disappeared from the radar in the middle of a storm. I went to a bar, got extremely wasted and killed a guy in an alley," he leaned back in his chair and started laughing. "Later on the news, 'escaped inmate found dead in an alley'," Killian shook his head, his grin slowly leaving his face. "So that was the story of my first kill, and my super tragic back-story."

"I'm sorry," Emma whispered.

"Me too, way to kill the mood huh?" He winked.

"I'm not saying this was a turn on," she grinned, "but I like that you told me this."

"What's the story of your first kill?" Emma stared at her legs, trying to remember it more vividly. You don't forget your first, but it has been a while.

"I was seven," she started slowly. "There was a kid that had been trying to touch me in inappropriate ways, sometimes even came in the girls rooms, to find me, but after I told Ruby, she always slept in my bed and would send him away. I felt a lot safer with her around, but because she was older than I am, she would often play with the older kids and eventually stopped playing outside. But I liked the outside, it was quiet.

Anyway, I'm sure he must have been at least six or seven years older. So there I was, sitting outside in the orphanage, watching the fish in the pond, when this kid sat down next to me and started rubbing his hands over my legs and then under my skirt. I got up immediately and looked around me, there were no monitors outside whom I could tell what he did. But I realised there were also no monitors outside who could see what I would do and I pushed him in the pond. Most kids growing up in orphanages can't swim, parents usually teach those things.

You know it's interesting, movies show people always splashing for their lives when they are drowning, but that's not how it happens. They keep still, face their head up towards the sky and try to keep breathing. He watched me with begging eyes and I stayed until I knew help would be too late. I threw in a ball in the water. Then ran inside and pretended to panic, telling the monitors that the kid and I were playing with a ball and I accidentally kicked the ball in the water and the kid told me to stay back as he would get it. I started crying and one of them held me and gave me a cookie to silence me while the second monitor ran outside, but I knew it would be too late."

"Kids are fucking scary," Killian laughed, Emma nodded slowly.

"When Ruby found out my biological parents were or are - I don't know - drug addicts, I felt like it made sense. I wasn't brought into the system until I was four. Who knows what kind of shit got into my brain..."

"Well then aren't we two messed up people?" Killian laughed, sitting closer to the desk.

"Yeah," Emma replied, allowing him to touch her legs, guiding them around his waist, pulling her off the desk and onto his lap. She laid her arms softly around his neck as his lips met hers. He was gentle in his kisses now, his previous kisses had been eager and hungry. But this one was gentle, almost loving. Emma closed her eyes, letting him guide her in this kiss. She could feel his hands explore her body, touching her waist, the small of her back, her hips and legs. Their chests rose and fell in synch.

"Emma," he whispered, pulling back carefully, his forehead still touching hers. "I want to do it right, this time."

"Like the other times were wrong," she smirked, and pulled away from him to look at him.

"They weren't," he agreed. "But they were not how I would sleep with a woman I actually liked." Killian leaned closer, trailing kisses up her neckline stopping below her ear.

"Emma, I want to make love to you," he whispered against her skin, his warm breath tickled her skin, but his words made her shiver, in the best way possible. She nodded slowly, holding on more tightly to his neck as he got up.

"What are you doing?" She almost giggled - a thing that scared her immensely. Emma had never giggled, not even when playing the innocent card, it was ridiculous and she hated it.

"Bedroom," he laughed, "what a delightful sound to hear you giggle."

"I don't giggle," she protested.

"Yeah, you did," he grinned and kissed her lips once before opening the bedroom door.

"Killian," she stopped him suddenly, feeling a moment of terror rise in her chest. "Please put me down."

"You really don't like not being in control huh?" He smiled, slowly placing her down.

"No, I don't like not knowing my environment," she admitted shamefully, regretting that she had once more broken them apart by letting fear come over her. She looked to the side, seeing a large window.

"It looks out on the garden," he explained, watching her trying to make sense of the situation outside. But the darkness left her blind. "The pool, there's also a barbecue, although I have never used it, and behind that a forest."

"Okay," Emma smiled, looking towards her left side.

"Door to the bathroom," Killian whispered, brushing her dress off her shoulders to kiss her revealed neckline.

"What do you keep under your bed?"

"Scared of the monsters under the bed?"

"I stopped being scared of the monsters under my bed once I realised they were all in my head."

"You speak words of dark poetry," He teased and nipped at her neck. "There is nothing under my bed, perhaps dust, if the cleaning lady forgot to clean under my bed again." Emma chuckled lightly. "Are you feeling safer yet, more in control?"

"Yes," she admitted, Killian looked at her and kissed the tip of her nose playfully.

"Good, then I have but one request. As of now, you'll let me be in control." Emma shifted her weight to one leg, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"Fine," she sighed, still lightly uncomfortable. Killian smiled, stroking his hand through her hair.

"I don't think you have any idea of how beautiful you are," he whispered.

"Are you saying that because -"

"No, to whatever reason you will name," he interrupted her, laid her down onto soft cool sheets, his body pressing against her, just lightly, but enough to feel every shape of him. "I'm telling you you're beautiful because you are. Utterly stunning." Emma pushed herself up, fulfilling the desire feeling of his lips against hers again. She could feel him smile as he returned her kiss. He pulled her into his arms lifting her up slightly to unzip her dress, pulling it down.

Her hands shook visibly as she tried to unbutton his shirt. "Why can't I just rip this damn shirt off your damn body," she grunted angrily, her whole body craved him, she shook at the memory of him inside her, and frankly she knew he felt it too. He was teasing her and it frustrated her.

"Because we're taking it slow," he answered smugly.

"I don't want to," she sighed almost childlike, dropping her hands next to her.

"Yes you do," Killian smiled. Kissing her breast, trailing his tongue around her nipple and sucked softly, causing a soft groan. He looked at her through his lashes. "Are you frustrated my love?" he teased.

"Utterly," she breathed. He flashed her a devilish grin and trailed kisses down her belly, stopping above her navel and took off her panties with ease, tossing them over the edge of the bed. Killian pushed her legs apart, kissing her inner-thigh. She could feel her heart pulse between her legs at the anticipation of what he was about to do to her.

His scruff brushed against her legs flicked his tongue over her clit, his fingers brushed over her slick folds, teasing her mercilessly before pushing a finger inside her.

She felt the tingling sensation of his movements until deep in her belly. Her hands reached for the blankets, heaping them up in her fists. Her legs started shaking, a desire to clench her legs was met by his hands pushing them down, while his mouth continued to please her.

"Killian," she groaned, her toes curled, "I want you, please..." She pleaded.

"Are you begging for me to take you?" He teased, looking up at her. Emma nodded frantically. "All right. See the problem is, I'm still wearing my pants..." He trailed off.

"Damn it, Killian Jones," she sighed, nearly pushing him over in an effort to take off his pants.

"Emma," he pushed her away gently, reminding her once again he wanted to slow things down. "I'll have you, don't worry, but everything feels so much better when you take your time. It's about opening up to your partner, leaving yourself vulnerable."

"I don't know how to do that," she whispered.

"It's all right," his cold lips brushed against her neck as he laid them down again, opening her legs. Emma held her breath in a poor attempt to stop herself from moaning as he brought their hips together, entering her with ease. "You can still enjoy yourself, that's not exclusive to fucking."

"But I'm..." She tried to bring out, he nodded rocked their hips together. Emma could feel herself reach her climax already, but he didn't seem to care, instead he held her, thrusting inside her, finding that right spot. "You don't mind..."

"No of course not," he smiled, "Emma, let go." And she did feeling the release throughout her entire body.

Killian watched her breathing unsteadily. "You all right?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever even been with someone who actually cared about you?"

"No," she admitted. He shook his head and continued the thrusts.

"Why not?"

"You really want to talk about this now?" She groaned. Killian snorted.

"Maybe not." His thrusts were steady, accompanied by many kisses and loving looks. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even if Emma had a hard time to believe it, he did make her feel like that.

Unlike the two previous times, he watched her, smiled at her, and held her close. Emma felt her heart race, beating even faster every time he looked at her. Never had anyone looked at her the way Killian did. Never had anyone cared for her needs like he did. It was new and scary, but it also felt like the best thing.

She reached out for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she crashed her lips onto his. Like many times before, he smiled, but so did she. She had pushed away the fear, accepted the idea he was in fact making love to her.

And accepted the fact she felt good with him.

Killian held her in his arms, rocking her through her second orgasm and soon following with his own, his head buried in her neck, whispering her name once.

They laid entangled for a moment, her arms still around his neck, brushing her fingers over his sweaty back, both breathing heavily.

When he rolled off her, onto his back, he pulled her close, she laid her head onto his shoulder, feeling almost safe, wrapped up in his arms.

She took his hand in hers, playing with his fingers. But honestly it was more of an attempt not to look at him. Admitting to herself that she felt good right now was a big step, if she looked at him now, he'd be able to read it off her face. And she wasn't ready for that.

Killian pressed a kiss on her hair.

"How are your legs?" He whispered teasingly.

"Terrible," she laughed. "I may just have to stay here because I can't walk anymore." Killian's chest shook softly as he laughed, kissing her hair again.

"I hope you have other reasons to stay."

"Well if you do this to me in the morning I'm definitely staying," Emma looked up at him, meeting his lips. It was the first time they had kissed after sex, she noticed. The first time they kissed that wasn't leading up to sex. It was just a casual kiss - apart from the being naked that is.

She let go of his hand to lay her hand on his chest, steadying herself as he trailed his tongue over her lips. She parted her lips and their tongues met, he still kissed her with such passion. His hand stroked her side, it would have tickled but the kiss felt too good to let it distract her. When they drew apart he stared at her with a faint smile.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I like looking at beautiful things, something wrong with that?" Emma laid her head back down against his shoulder.

"You really think I'm beautiful?"

"Yes," he simply said. "You're blushing."

"I just had sex, of course my cheeks are red," she protested.

"No, that's not it," Killian winked. "If anything, your cheeks got even more colour."

"I hate you," she hissed.

"Me too," he reached for her lips.

After lying like that for a moment, he drew the blankets from underneath them. The cool was welcome on her skin but warmed up too quickly for her liking. Killian had said a silent 'goodnight' seconds before falling asleep. And while she was tired, while her entire body was tired, she kept herself from falling asleep, watching him.

They wouldn't wake up like this, she knew, but falling asleep in his arms definitely felt nice.

* * *

She woke up, tangled in sheets, Killian's arm faintly around her. When she turned to face him, his eyes were still closed, but he smiled.

"Hey beautiful," he whispered drowsily.

* * *

_**AN:** _Well, that was the end of this story. I am super grateful for all the kind comments, the amazing response. I did enjoy writing this - even if I'm not 100% satisfied with this chapter - but this is definitely the end of it.  
Thank you so much for reading and commenting.


End file.
